CHARLES  F*  LUMMIS 


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THE  MAN 

WHO  MARRIED 

THE  MOON 


CHARLES  F.  LUMMIS 


THE    BOY    IN    THE    HOUSETOP    THE    TRUES.      (SEE    PAGE    115.) 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED 
THE  MOON 

AND  OTHER  PUEBLO  INDIAN  FOLK-STORIES 


BY 


CHARLES  F.  LUMMIS 

AUTHOR  OF  "SOME  STRANGE  CORNERS  OF  OUR  COUNTRY 
"A  NEIV  MEXICO  DAVID,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO, 

1894 


Copyright,  1891,  1892,  1894, 
By  THE  CENTURY  Co. 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


80 179 


To 
THE  FAIRY  TALE  THAT  CAME  TRUE  IN 

THE    HOME    OF    THE    TfiE-WAHK 

MY  WIFE  AND  CHILD 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION:  THE  BROWN  STORY-TELLERS 

I  THE  ANTELOPE  BOY 

II  THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  CROWS 

III  THE  WAR-DANCE  OF  THE  MICE 

IV  THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BLACKBIRDS 
V  THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BEAR 

VI  THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RATTLESNAKES 

VII  THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  WOODPECKER 

VIII  THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON 

IX  THE  MOTHER  MOON 

X  THE  MAKER  OF  THE  THUNDER-KNIVES 

XI  THE  STONE-MOVING  SONG 

XII  THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  THUNDER-KNIFE 

XIII  THE  MAGIC  HIDE-AND-SEEK 

XIV  THE  RACE  OF  THE  TAILS 
XV  HONEST  BIG-EARS 

XVI  THE  FEATHERED  BARBERS 

XVII  THE  ACCURSED  LAKE 

XVIII  THE  MOQUI  BOY  AND  THE  EAGLE 

XIX  THE  NORTH  WIND  AND  THE  SOUTH  WIND 

XX  THE  TOWN  OF  THE  SNAKE-GIRLS 

XXI  THE  DROWNING  OF  PECOS 

vii 


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viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XXII  THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY  147 

XXIII  THE  MAN  WHO  WOULD  N'T  KEEP  SUNDAY        161 

XXIV  THE  BRAVE  BOBTAILS  169 
XXV  THE  REVENGE  OF  THE  FAWNS  178 

XXVI  THE  SOBBING  PINE  194 

XXVII  THE  QUERES  DIANA  200 

XXVIII  A  PUEBLO  BLUEBEARD  203 

XXIX  THE  HERO  TWINS  206 

XXX  THE  HUNGRY  GRANDFATHERS  215 

XXXI  THE  COYOTE  222 

XXXII  DOCTOR  FIELD-MOUSE  232 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

THE  BOY  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  TRUES          FRONTISPIECE 
"  As  I  COME  IN,  KINDLY  OLD  TATA  LORENSO  IS  JUST  BE- 
GINNING A  STORY"  7 
THE   COYOTE  -CARRIES    THE    BABY  TO  THE   ANTELOPE 

MOTHER  15 

RAIN  FALLS  ON  PEE-K'HOO  18 

"  THE  TWO  RUNNERS  CAME  SWEEPING  DOWN  THE  HOME- 
STRETCH, STRAINING  EVERY   NERVE  "  2O 
"  AS  HE  CAUGHT  THE  HOOP  HE  WAS  INSTANTLY   CHANGED 

INTO  A  POOR  COYOTE  !  "  37 

"  COYOTE,  ARE  YOU  PEOPLE  ?  "  41 
"  As    HE    SEIZED    IT    HE  WAS    CHANGED    FROM  A  TALL 

YOUNG  MAN  INTO  A  GREAT  RATTLESNAKE"  45 

THE  COYOTES  AT  SUPPER  WITH  THE  WOODPECKERS  50 
THE     ISLETA     GIRLS     GRINDING      CORN     WITH     THE 

"  MANO  "  ON  THE  "  METATE  "  56 

THE  MOON-MAIDEN  57 
THE  YELLOW-CORN-MAIDENS  THROWING  MEAL  AT  THE 

PEARL  "  OMATE  "  59 

THE  GRIEF  OF  NAH-CHU-RU-CHU  65 
"THE  WITCH    MADE    HERSELF  VERY  SMALL,  AND    WENT 

BEHIND    THE    FOOT   OF    A    BIG    CRANE"  95 


x  LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

THE  HUNTER  AND  THE  LAKE-MAN  in 

THE  CURSING  OF  THE  LAKE  119 

SOUTH,  EAST,  NORTH,  AND  WEST  IN  SEARCH  OF  KAHP- 

TOo-6o-voo  153 

KAHP-TOO-OO-YOO  CALLING  THE  RAIN  158 

THE  WOLF,  AND  THE  COYOTE  WITH  THE  TOOTHACHE      183 
THE    WOLF    MEETS   THE    BOYS    PLAYING    WITH    THEIR 

Bows  AND  ARROWS  187 

"  THE   FAWNS   APPEARED   SUDDENLY,   AND   AT   SIGHT  OF 

THEM  THE  WOLF  DROPPED  THE  SPOONFUL  OF  SOUP  "     191 
"THERE  THEY  STOOD  SIDE  BY  SIDE"  225 

"'How  SHALL  I  GET  IT?'  SAID  THE  COYOTE"  229 

These  illustrations  are  from  drawings  by  George  Wharton  Edwards, 
after  photographs  by  the  author. 


TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 


THE    BROWN    STORY-TELLERS 

FANCY  that  if  almost  any  of  us  were 
asked,  "When  did  people  begin  to  make 
fairy  stories?"  our  first  thought  would 
be,  "  Why,  of  course,  after  mankind  had 
become  civilized,  and  had  invented  writ- 
ing." But  in  truth  the  making  of  myths, 
which  is  no  more  than  a  dignified  name 
for  "  fairy  stories,"  dates  back  to  the 
childhood  of  the  human  race. 

Longbefore  Cadmus  invented  letters 
(and  I  fear  Cadmus  himself  was  as  much  of  a  myth 
as  was  his  dragon's-teeth  harvest),  long  before  there 
were  true  historians  or  poets,  there  were  fairy  stories 
and  story-tellers.  And  to-day,  if  we  would  seek  the 
place  where  fairy  stories  most  flourish,  we  must  go, 
not  to  the  nations  whose  ^countless  educated  minds 
are  now  devoted  to  story-telling  for  the  young,  but 
to  peoples  who  have  no  books,  no  magazines,  no 
alphabets  —  even  no  pictures. 

Of  all  the  aboriginal  peoples  that  remain  in  North 


2  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

America,  none  is  richer  in  folk-lore  than  the  Pueblo 
Indians  of  New  Mexico,  who  are,  I  believe,  next  to 
the  largest  of  the  native  tribes  left  in  the  United 
States.  They  number  nine,  thousand  souls.  They 
have  nineteen  " cities"  (called  pueblos,  also)  in  this 
Territory,  and  seven  in  Arizona ;  and  each  has  its 
little  outlying  colonies.  They  are  not  cities  in  size,  it 
is  true,  for  the  largest  (Zuni)  has  only  fifteen  hundred 
people,  and  the  smallest  only  about  one  hundred  ; 
but  cities  they  are,  nevertheless.  And  each  city, 
with  its  fields,  is  a  wee  republic  —  twenty-six  of  the 
smallest,  and  perhaps  the  oldest,  republics  in  the 
world ;  for  they  were  already  such  when  the  first 
European  eyes  saw  America.  Each  has  its  gov- 
ernor, its  congress,  its  sheriffs,  war-captains,  and 
other  officials  who  are  elected  annually ;  its  laws, 
unwritten  but  unalterable,  which  are  more  respected 
and  better  enforced  than  the  laws  of  any  American 
community;  its  permanent  and  very  comfortable 
houses,  and  its  broad  fields,  confirmed  first  by  Spain 
and  later  by  patents  of  the  United  States. 

The  architecture  of  the  Pueblo  houses  is  quaint 
and  characteristic.  In  the  remote  pueblos  they  are 
as  many  as  six  stories  in  height  —  built  somewhat 
in  the  shape  of  an  enormous  terraced  pyramid.  The 
Pueblos  along  the  Rio  Grande,  however,  have  felt 
the  influence  of  Mexican  customs,  and  their  houses 
have  but  one  and  two  stories.  All  their  buildings, 
including  the  huge,  quaint  church  which  each  pueblo 
has,  are  made  of  stone  plastered  with  adobe  mud, 
or  of  great,  sun-dried  bricks  of  adobe.  They  are 
the  most  comfortable  dwellings  in  the  Southwest  — 
cool  in  summer  and  warm  in  winter. 


THE   BROWN    STORY-TELLERS  3 

The  Pueblos  are  divided  into  six  tribes,  each 
speaking-  a  distinct  language  of  its  own.  Isleta, 
the  quaint  village  where  I  lived  five  years,  in  an 
Indian  house,  with  Indian  neighbors,  and  under 
Indian  laws,  is  the  southernmost  of  the  pueblos, 
the  next  largest  of  them  all,  and  the  chief  city  of 
the  Tee-wahn  tribe.1  All  the  languages  of  the  Pu- 
eblo tribes  are  exceedingly  difficult  to  learn. 

Besides  the  cities  now  inhabited,  the  ruins  of 
about  fifteen  hundred  other  pueblos  —  and  some  of 
them  the  noblest  ruins  in  the  country  —  dot  the 
brown  valleys  and  rocky  mesa-tops  of  New  Mexico. 
All  these  ruins  are  of  stone,  and  are  extremely  in- 
teresting. The  implacable  savages  by  whom  they 
were  hemmed  in  made  necessary  the  abandonment 
of  hundreds  of  pueblos ;  and  this  great  number  of 
ruins  does  not  indicate  a  vast  ancient  population. 
The  Pueblos  never  counted  above  30,000  souls. 

The  Pueblo  Indians  have  for  nearly  two  centuries 
given  no  trouble  to  the  European  sharers  of  their 
domain ;  but  their  wars  of  defense  against  the  savage 
tribes  who  surrounded  them  completely — with  the 
Apaches,  Navajos,  Comanches,  and  Utes  —  lasted 
until  a  very  few  years  ago.  They  are  valiant 
fighters  for  their  homes,  but  prefer  any  honorable 
peace.  They  are  not  indolent,  but  industrious  — 
tilling  their  farms,  tending  their  stock,  and  keep- 
ing all  their  affairs  in  order.  The  women  own  the 
houses  and  their  contents,  and  do  not  work  out- 
side ;  and  the  men  control  the  fields  and  crops.  An 
unhappy  home  is  almost  an  unknown  thing  among 
them ;  and  the  universal  affection  of  parents  for 

1  Spelled  Tigua  by  Spanish  authors. 


4  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

children  and  respect  of  children  for  parents  are  ex- 
traordinary. I  have  never  seen  a  child  unkindly 
treated,  a  parent  saucily  addressed,  or  a  playmate 
abused,  in  all  my  long  and  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  Pueblos. 

Isleta  lies  on  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railroad, 
upon  the  western  bank  of  the  Rio  Grande,  on  a  lava 
promontory  which  was  once  an  island  —  whence  the 
town  takes  its  Spanish  name.  Its  Tee- warm  title  is 
Shee-eh-whib-bak.1  Its  population,  according  to 
the  census  taken  in  1891,  is  a  little  less  than  twelve 
hundred.  It  is  nearly  surrounded  by  fertile  vine- 
yards, orchards  of  peaches,  apricots,  apples,  cherries, 
plums,  pears,  and  quinces,  and  fields  of  corn,  wheat, 
beans,  and  peppers,  all  owned  by  my  dusky  neigh- 
bors. The  pueblo  owns  over  one  hundred  and  ten 
thousand  acres  of  land,  the  greater  part  of  which  is 
reserved  for  pasturing  horses  and  cattle. 

The  people  of  Isleta  are,  as  a  rule,  rather  short 
in  stature,  but  strongly  built.  All  have  a  magni- 
ficent depth  and  breadth  of  chest,  and  a  beautifully 
confident  poise  of  the  head.  Most  of  the  men  are 
very  expert  hunters,  tireless  runners,  and  fine  horse- 
men. Besides  ordinary  hunting  they  have  com- 
munal hunts — for  rabbits  in  the  spring,  for  antelope 
and  deer  in  the  fall — thoroughly  organized,  in 
which  great  quantities  of  game  are  killed. 

Their  amusements  are  many  and  varied.  Aside 
from  the  numerous  sacred  dances  of  the  year,  their 
most  important  occasions,  they  have  various  races 

1  The  name  means  "  Knife -laid-on-the-ground-to-play-w^."  Whib  is  an 
aboriginal  foot-race  in  which  the  runners  have  to  carry  a  stick  with  their  toes. 
The  name  was  perhaps  suggested  by  the  knife-like  shape  of  the  lava  ridge  on 
which  the  pueblo  is  built. 


THE   BROWN    STORY-TELLERS  5 

which  call  for  great  skill  and  endurance,  quaint 
social  enjoyments,  and  games  of  many  kinds,  some 
of  which  are  quite  as  difficult  as  chess.  They  are 
very  fair  weavers  and  pottery-makers.  The  women 
are  good  housewives,  and  most  of  them  excellent 
seamstresses. 

Yet,  with  all  this  progress  in  civilization,  despite 
their  mental  and  physical  acuteness  and  their  £x^ 
cellent  moral  qualities,  the  Tee-wahn  ate  in  some 
things  but  overgrown  children.  Their  secret  in- 
ner religion1  is  one  of  the  most  complicated  sys- 
tems on  earth.  Besides  the  highest  deities,  all 
the  forces  of  nature,  all  animals,  as  well  as  many 
things  that  are  inanimate,  are  invested  by  them 
with  supernatural  powers.  They  do  not  worship 
idols,  but  images  and  tokens  of  unseen  powers  are 
revered.  They  do  nothing  without  some  reason, 
generally  a  religious  one,  and  whatever  they  ob- 
serve jhey  can  explain  in  their  own  superstitious 
way.  Every  custom  they  have  and  every  belief 
they  own  has  a  reason  which  to  them  is  all-suffi- 
cient ;  and  for  each  they  have  a  story.  There  is  no 
duty  to  whfth  a  Pueblo  child  is  trained  in  which  he 
has  to  be  Content  with  the  bare  command,  "  Do 
thus";  for  each  he  learns  a  fairy  tale  designed  to 
explain  how  people  first  came  to  know  that  it  was 
right  to  do  thus,  and  detailing  the  sad  results  which 
befell  those  who  did  otherwise. 

It  is  from  this  wonderful  folk-lore  of  the  Tee- 
wahn  that  I  have  learned — after  long  study  of  the 
people,  their  language,  customs,  and  myths — and 

1  For  they  are  all  devout,  if  not  entirely  understanding,  members  of  a 
Christian  church;  but  keep  als^/  much  of  their  prehistoric  faiths. 


6  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

taken,  unchanged  and  unembellished,  this  series  of 
Indian  fairy  tales.  I  have  been  extremely  careful 
to  preserve,  in  my  translations,  the  exact  Indian 
spirit.  An  absolutely  literal  translation  would  be 
almost  unintelligible  to  English  readers,  but  I  have 
taken  no  liberties  with  the  real  meaning. 

The  use  of  books  is  not  only  to  tell,  but  to  pre- 
serve ;  not  only  for  to-day,  but  for  ever.  What  an 
Indian  wishes  to  perpetuate  must  be  saved  by 
tongue  and  ear,  by  "telling-down,"  as  were  the 
world's  first  histories  and  poems.  This  oral  trans- 
mission from  father  to  son  is  of  sacred  importance 
with  the  natives.  Upon  it  depends  the  preservation 
of  the  amusements,  the  history,  the  beliefs,  the  cus- 
toms, and  the  laws  of  their  nation.  A  people  less 
observant,  less  accurate  of  speech  and  of  memory, 
would  make  a  sad  failure  of  this  sort  of  record;  but 
with  them  it  is  a  wonderful  success.  The  story 
goes  down  from  generation  to  generation,  almost 
without  the  change  of  a  word.  The  fact  that  it  is 
told  in  fixed  metrical  form — a  sort  of  blank  verse 
— helps  the  memory. 

Here  in  Isleta,  the  quaint  pueblo  of  the  Tee- 
wahn,  I  became  deeply  interested  not  only  in  the 
folk-stories  themselves,  but  also  in  the  manner  of 
handing  them  down.  Winter  is  the  season  for 
story-telling.  Then  the  thirsty  fields  no  longer  cry 
for  water,  the  irrigating-ditches  have  ceased  to 
gnaw  at  their  banks,  and  the  men  are  often  at 
leisure.  Then,  of  an  evening,  if  I  go  over  to  visit 
some  vecino  (neighbor),  I  am  likely  to  find,  in  the 
great  adobe  living-room,  a  group  of  very  old  men 
and  very  young  boys  gathered  about  the  queer  little 


THE   BROWN    STORY-TELLERS  9 

corner  fireplace  with  its  blazing  upright  sticks. 
They,  too,  have  come  a-visiting.  The  young  men 
are  gathered  in  another  corner  by  themselves,  eat- 
ing roasted  corn,  and  talking  in  whispers  so  as  not 
to  disturb  their  elders,  for  respect  to  age  is  the 
corner-stone  of  all  Indian  training.  They  are  not 
required  to  listen  to  the  stories,  being  supposed  to 
know  them  already. 

If  in  the  far,  sweet  days  when  I  stood  at  my 
grandmother's  knee,  and  shivered  over  "  Blue- 
beard," or  thrilled  at  "Jack  the  Giant-killer,"  some 
one  could  have  shown  us  a  picture  of  me  as  I  was 
to  be  listening  to  other  fairy  tales  twenty-five  years 
later,  I  am  sure  that  her^eyes  would  have  opened 
wide  as  mine.  Certainly  neither  of  us  ever  dreamed 
that,  thousands  of  miles,  from  the  old  New  England 
fireplace,  when  the  ,<Jear  figures  that  sat  with  me 
before  its  blazing  fdre^fcl^^had  long  been  dust,  I 
would  be  sitting  where  I  am  to-night  and  listening 
to  the  strange,  dark  people  who  are  around  me. 

The  room  is  long  and  low,  and  overhead  are 
dark,  round  rafters  —  the  trunks  of  straight  pine- 
trees  that  used  to  purr  on  the  sides  of  the  most  fa- 
mous mountain  in  New  Mexico.  The  walls  are 
white  as  snow,  and  you  would  never  imagine  that 
they  are  built  only  of  cut  sods,  plastered  over  and 
whitewashed.  The  floor  is  of  adobe  clay,  packed 
almost  as  hard  as  a  rock,  and  upon  it  are  bright- 
hued  blankets,  woven  in  strange  figures.  Along 
the  walls  are  benches,  with  wool  mattresses  rolled 
up  and  laid  upon  them.  By  and  by  these  will  be 
spread  upon  the  floor  for  beds,  but  just  now  they 


io  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

serve  as  cushioned  seats.  Over  in  a  corner  are 
strange  earthen  jars  of  water,  with  little  gourd  dip- 
pers floating,  and  here  and  there  upon  the  wall 
hang  bows  and  arrows  in  sheaths  of  the  tawny  hide 
of  the  mountain  lion  ;  queer  woven  belts  of  red  and 
green,  and  heavy  necklaces  of  silver  and  coral,  with 
charms  of  turquoise  —  the  stone  that  stole  its  color 
from  the  sky. 

There  is  a  fireplace,  too,  and  we  are  gathered  all 
about  it,  a  dozen  or  more  —  for  I  have  become  an 
old  friend  here.  But  it  is  not  like  the  fireplace 
where  the  little  sister  and  I  used  to  roast  our  ap- 
ples and  pop  our  corn.  A  wee  hearth  of  clay  rises 
a  few  inches  from  the  floor ;  a  yard  above  it  hangs 
the  chimney,  like  a  big  white  hood ;  and  a  little 
wall,  four  feet  high,  runs  from  it  out  into  the  room, 
that  the  wind  from  the  outer  door  may  not  blow 
the  ashes.  There  is  no  big  front  log,  but  three  or 
four  gnarled  cedar  sticks,  standing  on  one  end, 
crackle  loudly. 

Some  of  us  are  seated  on  benches,  and  upon  the 
floor.  His  back  against  the  wall,  squats  my  host, 
who  is  just  going  to  begin  another  fairy  story. 
Such  a  wee,  withered,  wrinkled  old  man  !  It  seems 
as  though  the  hot  winds  of  the  Southwest  had  dried 
him  as  they  dry  the  forgotten  last  year's  apples 
that  shrivel  here  and  there  upon  lonely  boughs. 
He  must  be  a  century  old.  His  children,  grand- 
children, great-grandchildren,  and  great-great- 
grandchildren are  all  represented  here  to-night. 
Yet  his  black  eyes  are  like  a  hawk's,  under  their 
heavy  brows,  and  his  voice  is  musical  and  deep. 
I  have  never  heard  a  more  eloquent  story-teller, 


THE   BROWN    STORY-TELLERS  11 

and  I  have  heard  some  famous  ones.  I  can  tell 
you  the  words,  but  not  the  impressive  tones,  the 
animation  of  eye  and  accent,  the  eloquent  gestures 
of  this  venerable  Indian  as  he  tells  —  what?  An 
Indian  telling  fairy  stories? 

Yes,  indeed.  He  is  the  very  man  to  tell  them. 
If  this  dusky  old  playground  for  wrinkles,  who 
never  saw  the  inside  of  a  book,  could  write  out  all 
the  fairy  stories  he  knows,  Webster's  Unabridged 
Dictionary  would  hardly  hold  them.  His  father 
and  his  father's  father,  and  so  on  back  for  count- 
less centuries,  have  handed  down  these  stories 
by  telling,  from  generation  to  generation,  just  as 
Tata1  Lorenso  is  telling  his  great-great-grandsons 
to-night.  When  these  boys  grow  up,  they  will  tell 
these  stories  to  their  sons  and  grandsons;  and  so 
the  legends  will  pass  on  and  on,  so  long  as  there 
shall  be  a'Tee-wahn  Indian  left  in  all  New  Mexico. 

But  Lorenso  is  ready  with  his  story.  He  pauses 
only  to  make  a  cigarette  from  the  material  in  my 
pouch  (they  call  me  Por  todos,  because  I  have  to- 
bacco "  for  all  "),  explains  for  my  benefit  that  this 
is  a  story  of  the  beginning  of  Isleta,  pats  the  head 
of  the  chubby  boy  at  his  knee,  and  begins  again. 

1  "Father." 


THE    ANTELOPE    BOY 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  were  two  towns  of  the 
Tee-wahn,  called  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  (white 
village)  and  Nah-choo-ree-too-ee  (yellow  village). 
A  man  of  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  and  his  wife  were 
attacked  by  Apaches  while  out  on  the  plains  one 
day,  and  took  refuge  in  a  cave,  where  they  were 
besieged.  And  there  a  boy  was  born  to  them. 
The  father  was  killed  in  an  attempt  to  return  to 
his  village  for  help ;  and  starvation  finally  forced 
the  mother  to  crawl  forth  by  night  seeking  roots 
to  eat.  Chased  by  the  Apaches,  she  escaped  to 
her  own  village,  and  it  was  several  days  before  she 
could  return  to  the  cave — only  to  find  it  empty. 

The  baby  had  begun  to  cry  soon  after  her  de- 
parture. Just  then  a  Coyote1  was  passing,  and 
heard.  Taking  pity  on  the  child,  he  picked  it  up 
and  carried  it  across  the  plain  until  he  came  to  a 
herd  of  antelopes.  Among  them  was  a  Mother- 
Antelope  that  had  lost  her  fawn  ;  and  going  to  her 
the  Coyote  said : 

"  Here  is  an  ah-boo  (poor  thing)  that  is  left  by 
its  people.  Will  you  take  care  of  it  ?  " 

1  The  small  prairie-wolf. 


THE   ANTELOPE   BOY  13 

The  Mother-Antelope,  remembering  her  own 
baby,  with  tears  said  "  Yes,"  and  at  once  adopted 
the  tiny  stranger,  while  the  Coyote  thanked  her 
and  went  home. 

So  the  boy  became  as  one  of  the  antelopes,  and 
grew  up  among  them  until  he  was  about  twelve 
years  old.  Then  it  happened  that  a  hunter  came 
out  from  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  for  antelopes,  and 
found  this  herd.  Stalking  them  carefully,  he  shot 
one  with  an  arrow.  The  rest  started  off,  running 
like  the  wind ;  but  ahead  of  them  all,  as  long  as 
they  were  in  sight,  he  saw  a  boy  !  The  hunter 
was  much  surprised,  and,  shouldering  his  game, 
walked  back  to  the  village,  deep  in  thought.  Here 
he  told  the  Cacique1  what  he  had  seen.  Next  day 
the  crier  was  sent  out  to  call  upon  all  the  people  to 
prepare  for  a  great  hunt,  in  four  days,  to  capture 
the  Indian  boy  who  lived  with  the  antelopes. 

While  preparations  were  going  on  in  the  village, 
the  antelopes  in  some  way  heard  of  the  intended 
hunt  and  its  purpose.  The  Mother-Antelope  was 
very  sad  when  she  heard  it,  and  at  first  would  say 
nothing.  But  at  last  she  called  her  adopted  son 
to  her  and  said:  "  Son,  you  have  heard  that  the 
people  of  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  are  coming  to  hunt. 
But  they  will  not  kill  us ;  all  they  wish  is  to  take 
you.  They  will  surround  us,  intending  to  let  all 
the  antelopes  escape  from  the  circle.  You  must 
follow  me  where  I  break  through  the  line,  and  your 
real  mother  will  be  coming  on  the  northeast  side  in 
a  white  mania  (robe).  I  will  pass  close  to  her,  and 
you  must  stagger  and  fall  where  she  can  catch  you." 

1  The  highest  religious  official.. 


H  TEE  WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

On  the  fourth  day  all  the  people  went  out  upon 
the  plains.  They  found  and  surrounded  the  herd 
of  antelopes,  which  ran  about  in  a  circle  when  the 
hunters  closed  upon  them.  The  circle  grew  smaller, 
and  the  antelopes  began  to  break  through;  but  the 
hunters  paid  no  attention  to  them,  keeping  their 
eyes  upon  the  boy.  At  last  he  and  his  antelope 
mother  were  the  only  ones  left,  and  when  she 
broke  through  the  line  on  the  northeast  he  fol- 
lowed her  and  fell  at  the  feet  of  his  own  human 
mother,  who  sprang  forward  and  clasped  him  in 
her  arms. 

Amid  great  rejoicing  he  was  taken  to  Nah-bah- 
too-too-ee,  and  there  he  told  the  principales1  how 
he  had  been  left  in  the  cave,  how  the  Coyote  had 
pitied  him,  and  how  the  Mother-Antelope  had 
reared  him  as  her  own  son. 

It  was  not  long  before  all  the  country  round 
about  heard  of  the  Antelope  Boy  and  of  his  marvel- 
ous fleetness  of  foot.  You  must  know  that  the  ante- 
lopes never  comb  their  hair,  and  while  among  them 
the  boy's  head  had  grown  very  bushy.  So  the 
people  called  him  Pee-hleh-o-wah-wee-deh  (big- 
headed  little  boy). 

Among  the  other  villages  that  heard  of  his 
prowess  was  Nah-choo-ree-too-ee,  all  of  whose 
people  "  had  the  bad  road."'2  They  had  a  wonder- 
ful runner  named  Pee-& hoo  (Deer-foot),  and  very 
soon  they  sent  a  challenge  to  Nah-bah-too-too-ee 
for  a  championship  race.  Four  days  were  to  be 
given  for  preparation,  to  make  bets,  and  the  like. 

1  The  old  men  who  are  the  congress  of  the  pueblo. 
2  That  is,  were  witches. 


fy&fci.  ^  "Jvf!> 
THE    COYOTE    CARRIES    THE    BABY    TO    THE    ANTELOPE    MOTHER. 


THE   ANTELOPE   BOY  17 

The  race  was  to  be  around  the  world.1  Each  village 
was  to  stake  all  its  property  and  the  lives  of  all  its 
people  on  the  result  of  the  race.  So  powerful  were 
the  witches  of  Nah-choo-ree-too-ee  that  they  felt 
safe  in  proposing  so  serious  a  stake ;  and  the  peo- 
ple of  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  were  ashamed  to  decline 
the  challenge. 

The  day  came,  and  the  starting-point  was  sur- 
rounded by  all  the  people  of  the  two  villages, 
dressed  in  their  best.  On  each  side  were  huge 
piles  of  ornaments  and  dresses,  stores  of  grain,  and 
all  the  other  property  of  the  people.  The  runner 
for  the  yellow  village  was  a  tall,  sinewy  athlete, 
strong  in  his  early  manhood;  and  when  the  Ante- 
lope Boy  appeared  for  the  other  side,  the  witches 
set  up  a  howl  of  derision,  and  began  to  strike  their 
rivals  and  jeer  at  them,  saying,  "  Pooh  !  We  might 
as  well  begin  to  kill  you  now !  What  can  that 
6o-deh  (little  thing)  do?" 

At  the  word  "  Hdi-ko  /  "  ("  Go  !  ").  the  two  run- 
ners started  toward  the  east  like  the  wind.  The 
Antelope  Boy  soon  forged  ahead ;  but  Deer-foot, 
by  his  witchcraft,  changed  himself  into  a  hawk  and 
flew  lightly  over  the  lad,  saying,  "  We  do  this  way 
to  each  other!"2  The  Antelope  Boy  kept  run- 
ning, but  his  heart  was  very  heavy,  for  he  knew 
that  no  feet  could  equal  the  swift  .flight  of  the 
hawk. 

1  The  Pueblos  believed  it  was  an  immense  plain  whereon  the  racers  were 
to  race  over  a  square  course  —  to  the  extreme  east,  then  to  the  extreme  north, 
and  so  on,  back  to  the  starting-point. 

2  A  common  Indian  taunt,  either  good-natured  or  bitter,  to  the  loser  of  a 
game  or  to  a  conquered  enemy. 


iS 


TEE-WAHN    FOLK>STORIES 


But  just  as  he  came  half-way  to  the  east,  a  Mole 
came  up  from  its  burrow  and  said : 

"  My  son,  where  are  you  going  so  fast  with  a 
sad  face  ? " 

The  lad  explained    that    the    race  was  for  the 


RAIN     FALLS    ON     PEE-K'HOO. 


property  and  lives  of  all  his  people  ;  and  that  the 
witch-runner  had  turned  to  a  hawk  and  left  him  far 
behind. 


THE   ANTELOPE   BOY  19 

"  Then,  my  son,"  said  the  Mole,  "I  will  be  he 
that  shall  help  you.  Only  sit  down  here  a  little 
while,  and  I  will  give  you  something  to  carry." 

The  boy  sat  down,  and  the  Mole  dived  into  the 
hole,  but  soon  came  back  with  four  cigarettes.1 

Holding  them  out,  the  Mole  said,  "  Now,  my 
son,  when  you  have  reached  the  east  and  turned 
north,  smoke  one ;  when  you  have  reached  the 
north  and  turn  west,  smoke  another ;  when  you 
turn  south,  another,  and  when  you  turn  east  again, 
another.  Hdi-ko  /  " 

The  boy  ran  on,  and  soon  reached  the  east. 
Turning  his  face  to  the  north  he  smoked  the  first 
cigarette.  No  sooner  was  it  finished  than  he  be- 
came a  young  antelope ;  and  at  the  same  instant 
a  furious  rain  began.  Refreshed  by  the  cool 
drops,  he  started  like  an  arrow  from  the  bow. 
Half-way  to  the  north  he  came  to  a  large  tree  ; 
and  there  sat  the  hawk,  drenched  and  chilled,  un- 
able to  fly,  and  crying  piteously. 

"  Now,  friend,  we  too  do  this  to  each  other," 
called  the  boy-antelope  as  he  dashed  past.  But 
just  as  he  reached  the  north,  the  hawk  —  which 
had  become  dry  after  the  short  rain  —  caught  up 
and  passed  him,  saying,  "We  too  do  this  to  each 
other  !  "  The  boy-antelope  turned  westward,  and 
smoked  the  second  cigarette ;  and  at  once  another 
terrific  rain  began.2  Half-way  to  the  west  he  again 
passed  the  hawk  shivering  and  crying  in  a  tree, 

1  These   are   made   by   putting   a   certain    weed   called  pee-en-hleh  into 
hollow  reeds. 

2  I  should  state,  by  the  way,  that  the  cigarette  plays  an  important  part  in 
the  Pueblo  folk-stories,  —  they  never  had  the  pipe  of  the  Northern  Indians, 
—  and  all  rain-clouds  are  supposed  to  come  from  its  smoke. 


20 


TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 


and  unable  to  fly;  but  as  he  was  about  to  turn  to 
the  south,  the. hawk  passed  him  with  the  custom- 
ary taunt.  The  smoking  of  the  third  cigarette 
brought  another  storm,  and  again  the  antelope 
passed  the  wet  hawk  half-way,  and  again  the  hawk 
dried  its  feathers  in  time  to  catch  up  and  pass  him 
as  he  was  turning  to  the  east  for  the  home- stretch. 
Here  again  the  boy-antelope  stopped  and  smoked 
a  cigarette  —  the  fourth  and  last.  Again  a  short, 


"THE    TWO    RUNNERS    CAME    SWEEPING    DOWN    THE    HOME-STRETCH, 
STRAINING    EVERY    NERVE." 

hard  rain  came,  and  again   he  passed  the  water- 
bound  hawk  half-way. 

Knowing  the  witchcraft  of  their  neighbors,  the 
people  of  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  had  made  the  condi- 
tion that,  in  whatever  shape  the  racers  might  run  the 
rest  of  the. course,  they  must  resume  human  form 
upon  arrival  at  a  certain  hill  upon  the  fourth  turn, 
which  was  in  sight  of  the  goal.  The  last  wetting 
of  the  hawk's  feathers  delayed  it  so  that  the  ante- 
lope reached  the  hill  just  ahead  ;  and  there,  resum- 
ing their  natural  shapes,  the  two  runners  came 


THE   ANTELOPE   BOY  21 

sweeping  down  the  home-stretch,  straining  every 
nerve.  But  the  Antelope  Boy  gained  at  each 
stride.  When  they  saw  him,  the  witch-people  felt 
confident  that  he  was  their  champion,  and  again 
began  to  push,  and  taunt,  and  jeer  at  the  others. 
But  when  the  little  Antelope  Boy  sprang  lightly 
across  the  line,  far  ahead  of  Deer-foot,  their  joy 
turned  to  mourning. 

The  people  of  Nah-bah-too-too-ee  burned  all 
the  witches  upon  the  spot,  in  a  great  pile  of  corn ; 
but  somehow  one  escaped,  and  from  him  come  all 
the  witches  that  trouble  us  to  this  day. 

The  property  of  the  witches  was  taken  to  Nah- 
bah-too-too-ee  ;  and  as  it  was  more  than  that  vil- 
lage could  hold,  the  surplus  was  sent  to  Shee-eh- 
whib-bak  (Isleta),  where  we  enjoy  it  to  this  day ; 
and  later  the  people  themselves  moved  here.  And 
even  now,  when  we  dig  in  that  little  hill  on  the 
other  side  of  the  charco  (pool),  we  find  charred 
corn-cobs,  where  our  forefathers  burned  the  witch- 
people  of  the  yellow  village. 

During  Lorenso's  story  the  black  eyes  of  the  boys 
have  never  left  his  face ;  and  at  every  pause  they 
have  made  the  customary  response,  "  Is  that  so  ?  " 
to  show  their  attention;  while  the  old  men  have 
nodded  approbation,  and  smoked  in  deep  silence. 

Now  Lorenso  turns  to  Desiderio,1  who  is  far 
more  wrinkled  even  than  he,  and  says,  "  You  have 
a  tail,  brother."  And  Desiderio,  clearing  his 
throat  and  making  a  new  cigarette  with  great  im- 
pressiveness,  begins:  "  My  sons,  do  you  know  why 
the  Coyote  and  the  Crows  are  always  at  war? 
No?  Then  I  will  tell  you." 

1  Pronounced  Day-see-day-ree-oh. 


II 

THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  CROWS 

ONCE  on  a  time  many  Kah-ahn  lived  in  the  edge 
of  some  woods.  A  little  out  into  the  plain 
stood  a  very  large  tree,  with  much  sand  under  it. 
One  day  a  Coyote  was  passing,  and  heard  the 
Crows  singing  and  dancing  under  this  tree,  and 
came  up  to  watch  them.  They  were  dancing  in  a 
circle,  and  each  Crow  had  upon  his  back  a  large  bag. 

"  Crow-friends,  what  are  you  doing?  "  asked  the 
Coyote,  who  was  much  interested. 

"  Oh,  we  are  dancing  with  our  mothers,"  said 
the  Crows. 

"  How  pretty  !  And  will  you  let  me  dance, 
too  ?  "  asked  the  Coyote  of  the  too-whit-lah-wid- 
deh  crow  (captain  of  the  dance). 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  Crow.  "  Go  and  put 
your  mother  in  a  bag  and  come  to  the  dance." 

The  Coyote  went  running  home.  There  his  old 
mother  was  sitting  in  the  corner  of  the  fireplace. 
The  stupid  Coyote  picked  up  a  stick  and  struck 
her  on  the  head,  and  put  her  in  a  bag,  and  hurried 
back  to  the  dance  with  her. 

The  Crows  were  dancing  merrily,  and  singing : 
"Ai  nana,  que-ee-rah,  que-ee-rah"  ("Alas,  Mama! 


THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  CROWS        23 

you  are  shaking*,  you  are  shaking  ! ")  The  Coyote 
joined  the  dance,  with  the  bag  on  his  back,  and 
sang  as  the  Crows  did : 

"At  nana,  que-ee-rah,  que-ee-rah"  1 

But  at  last  the  Crows  burst  out  laughing,  and 
said,  "What  do  you  bring  in  your  bag?  " 

"  My  mother,  as  you  told  me,"  replied  the  Coy- 
ote, showing  them. 

Then  the  Crows  emptied  their  bags,  which  were 
filled  with  nothing  but  sand,  and  flew  up  into  the 
tree,  laughing. 

The  Coyote  then  saw  that  they  had  played  him 
a  trick,  and  started  home,  crying  "Ai  nana!" 
When  he  got  home  he  took  his  mother  from  the 

o 

bag  and  tried  to  set  her  up  in  the  chimney-corner, 
always  crying,  "Ai  nana,  why  don't  you  sit  up  as 
before  ? "  But  she  could  not,  for  she  was  dead. 
When  he  found  that  she  could  not  sit  up  any  more, 
he  vowed  to  follow  the  Crows  and  eat  them  all  the 
rest  of  his  life ;  and  from  that  day  to  this  he  has 
been  hunting  them,  and  they  are  always  at  war. 

As  Desiderio  concludes,  the  old  men  hitch  their 
blankets  around  their  shoulders.  "No  more  stories 
to-night?"  I  ask;  and  Lorenso  says: 

"In-ddh  (no).  Now  it  is  to  go  to  bed.  T6o-kwai 
(come),"  to  the  boys.  "Good  night,  friends.  An- 
other time,  perhaps." 

And  we  file  out  through  the  low  door  into  the 
starry  night. 

1  Ai  nana  is  an  exclamation  always  used  by  mourners. 


Ill 

THE    WAR-DANCE    OF    THE    MICE 

TO-NIGHT  it  is  withered  Diego1  who  begins 
with   his   story,    in    the    musical    but    strange 
Tee-wahn    tongue,  of    "  Shee-choon    t'o-ah-fuar." 
Serious   as   that  looks,  it   means   only   "the  war- 
dance  of  the  Mice." 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  war  between  the 
people  of  Isleta  and  the  Mice.  There  was  a  great 
battle,  in  which  the  Tee-wahn  killed  many  Mice 
and  took  their  scalps.  Then  the  Tee-wahn  re- 
turned to  their  village,  and  the  warriors  went  into 
the  estufa  (sacred  council-chamber)  to  prepare 
themselves  by  fasting  for  the  great  scalp-dance 
in  twelve  days.  While  the  warriors  were  sitting 
inside,  the  Mice  came  secretly  by  night  to  attack 
the  town,  and  their  spies  crept  up  to  the  estiifa. 
When  all  the  Tee-wahn  warriors  had  fallen  asleep, 
the  Mice  came  stealing  down  the  big  ladder  into 
the  room,  and  creeping  from  sleeper  to  sleeper,  they 
gnawed  every  bowstring  and  cut  the  feathers  from 
the  arrows  and  the  strap  of  every  sling.  When 
this  was  done,  the  Mice  raised  a  terrible  war-whoop 
and  rushed  upon  the  warriors,  brandishing  their 

1  Pronounced  Dee-ay-go. 
24 


THE  WAR-DANCE   OF   THE   MICE  25 

spears.  The  Tee-wahn  woke  and  caught  up  their 
bows  and  arrows,  but  only  to  find  them  useless. 
So  the  warriors  could  do  nothing  but  run  from  their 
tiny  foes,  and  up  the  ladder  to  the  roof  they  rushed 
pell-mell  and  thence  fled  to  their  homes,  leaving 
the  Mice  victorious. 

The  rest  of  the  town  made  such  fun  of  the  war- 
riors that  they  refused  to  return  to  the  fight;  and 
the  elated  Mice  held  a  public  dance  in  front  of  the 
estufa.  A  brave  sight  it  was,  the  army  of  these 
little  people,  singing  and  dancing  and  waving  their 
spears.  They  were  dressed  in  red  blankets,  with 
leather  leggings  glistening  with  silver  buttons  from 
top  to  bottom,  and  gay  moccasins.  Each  had  two 
eagle  feathers  tied  to  the  top  of  his  spear  —  the 
token  of  victory.  And  as  they  danced  and  marched 
and  counter-marched,  they  sang  exultingly : 

Shee-oh-pah  cti-6t-im  ! 
Neh-mdh-hlee-oh  cW-ot-im  ! 
Hlo-tu  fee-ny  p-6h-teh  / 

over  and  over  again  —  which  means 

Quick  we  cut  the  bowstring  1 
Quick  we  cut  the  sling-strap ! 
We  shaved  the  arrow-feathers  off! 

For  four  days  they  danced  and  sang,  and  on  the 
night  of  the  fourth  day  danced  all  night  around 
a  big  bonfire.  The  next  morning  they  marched 
away.  That  was  the  time  when  the  Mice  con- 
quered men ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  we  have 
never  been  able  to  drive  the  Mice  out  of  our  homes 
to  this  day. 


26  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

"  Is  that  the  reason?"  ask  all  the  boys,  who 
have  been  listening  with  big  black  eyes  intent. 

"  That  is  the  very  reason,"  says  withered  Diego. 
"  Now,  compadre  Antonio,  there  is  a  tail  to  you." 

Antonio,  thus  called  upon,  cannot  refuse.  Indian 
etiquette  is  very  strict  upon  this  point  —  as  well  as 
upon  all  others.  So  he  fishes  in  his  memory  for  a 
story,  while  the  boys  turn  expectant  faces  toward 
him.  He  is  not  nearly  so  wrinkled  as  Diego,  but 
he  is  very,  very  old,  and  his  voice  is  a  little  tremu- 
lous at  first.  Wrapping  his  blanket  about  him,  he 
begins  : 

Then  I  will  tell  you  why  the  Coyote  and  the  Black- 
birds are  enemies — for  once  they  were  very  good 
friends  in  the  old  days. 


IV 

THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BLACKBIRDS 

ONCE  upon  a  time  a  Coyote  lived  near  an  open 
wood.  As  he  went  to  walk  one  day  near  the 
edge  of  the  wood,  he  heard  the  Blackbirds  (the 
Indian  name  means  "  seeds  of  the  prairie  ")  calling 
excitedly : 

"Bring  my  bag!  Bring  my  bag!  It  is  going 
to  hail !  " 

The  Coyote,  being  very  curious,  came  near  and 
saw  that  they  all  had  buckskin  bags  to  which  they 
were  tying  lassos,  the  other  ends  of  which  were 
thrown  over  the  boughs  of  the  trees.  Very  much 
surprised,  the  Coyote  came  to  them  and  asked : 

"  Blackbird-friends,  what  are  you  doing?" 

"Oh,  friend  Coyote,"  they  replied,  "we  are 
making  ourselves  ready,  for  soon  there  will  be  a 
very  hard  hail-storm,  and  we  do  not  wish  to  be 
pelted  to  death.  We  are  going  to  get  into  these 
bags  and  pull  ourselves  up  under  the  branches, 
where  the  hail  cannot  strike  us." 

"  That  is  very  good,"  said  the  Coyote,  "  and  I 
would  like  to  do  so,  too,  if  you  will  let  me  join  you." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Just  run  home  and  get  a  bag  and  a 
lasso,  and  come  back  here  and  we  will  help  you," 
said  the  Pah-tahn,  never  smiling. 


28  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

So  the  Coyote  started  running  for  home,  and 
got  a  large  bag  and  a  lasso,  and  came  back  to  the 
Blackbirds,  who  were  waiting.  They  fixed  the 
rope  and  bag  for  him,  putting  the  noose  around 
the  neck  of  the  bag  so  that  it  would  be  closed 
tight  when  the  rope  was  pulled.  Then  they  threw 
the  end  of  the  lasso  over  a  strong  branch  and  saicl : 

"Now,  friend  Coyote,  you  get  into  your  bag 
first,  for  you  are  so  big  and  heavy  that  you  cannot 
pull  yourself  up,  and  we  will  have  to  help  you." 

The  Coyote  crawled  into  the  bag,  and  all  the 
Blackbirds  taking  hold  of  the  rope,  pulled  with  all 
their  might  till  the  bag  was  swung  clear  up  under  the 
branch.  Then  they  tied  the  end  of  the  lasso  around 
the  tree  so  the  bag  could  not  come  down,  and  ran 
around  picking  up  all  the  pebbles  they  could  find. 

"Mercy!  How  the  hail  comes!"  they  cried  ex- 
citedly, and  began  to  throw  stones  at  the  swinging 
bag  as  hard  as  ever  they  could. 

"Mercy!"  howled  the  Coyote,  as  the  pebbles 
pattered  against  him.  "But  this  is  a  terrible  storm, 
Blackbird-friends!  It  pelts  me  dreadfully!  And 
how  are  you  getting  along?" 

"  It  is  truly  very  bad,  friend  Coyote,"  they  an- 
swered, "but  you  are  bigger  and  stronger  than  we, 
and  ought  to  endure  it."  And  they  kept  pelting 
him,  all.  the  time  crying  and  chattering  as  if  they, 
too,  were  suffering  greatly  from  the  hail. 

"Ouch!  "  yelled  the  Coyote.  "  That  one  hit  me 
very  near  the  eye,  friends !  I  fear  this  evil  storm 
will  kill  us  all !  " 

"But  be  brave,  friend,"  called  back  the  Black- 
birds. "We  keep  our  hearts,  and  so  should  you, 


THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BLACKBIRDS      29 

for  you  are  much  stronger  than  we."  And  they 
pelted  him  all  the  harder. 

So  they  kept  it  up  until  they  were  too  tired  to 
throw  any  more;  and  as  for  the  Coyote,  he  was  so 
bruised  and  sore  that  he  could  hardly  move.  Then 
they  untied  the  rope  and  let  the  bag  slowly  to  the 
ground,  and  loosened  the  noose  at  the  neck  and 
flew  up  into  the  trees  with  sober  faces. 

"Ow!"  groaned  the  Coyote,  "I  am  nearly  dead!" 
And  he  crawled  weeping  and  groaning  from  the 
bag,  and  began  to  lick  his  bruises.  But  when  he 
looked  around  and  saw  the  sun  shining  and  the 
ground  dry,  and  not  a  hailstone  anywhere,  he  knew 
that  the  Blackbirds  had  given  him  a  trick,  and  he 
limped  home  in  a  terrible  rage,  vowing  that  as  soon 
as  ever  he  got  well  he  would  follow  and  eat  the 
Blackbirds  as  long  as  he  lived.  And  ever  since, 
even  to  this  day,  he  has  been  following  them  to  eat 
them,  and  that  is  why  the  Coyote  and  the  Black- 
birds are  always  at  war. 

"Is  that  so? "cried  all  the  boys  in  chorus,  their 
eyes  shining  like  coals. 

"Oh,  yes,  that  is  the  cause  of  the  war,"  said  old 
Antonio,  gravely.  "And  now,  brother,  there  is  a 
tail  to  you,"  turning  to  the  tall,  gray-haired  Felipe1; 
and  clearing  his  throat,  Felipe  begins  about  the 
Coyote  and  the  Bear. 

1  Pronounced  Fay-lee-peh. 


V 

THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BEAR1 

ONCE  upon  a  time  Ko-id-deh  (the  Bear)  and 
Too-whay-deh  (the  Coyote)  chanced  to  meet  at 
a  certain  spot,  and  sat  down  to  talk.     After  a  while 
the  Bear  said : 

"  Friend  Coyote,  do  you  see  what  good  land  this 
is  here  ?  What  do  you  say  if  we  farm  it  together, 
sharing  our  labor  and  the  crop  ?  " 

The  Coyote  thought  well  of  it,  and  said  so ;  and 
after  talking,  they  agreed  to  plant  potatoes  in  part- 
nership. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Bear,  "  I  think  of  a  good  way 
to  divide  the  crop.  I  will  take  all  that  grows  be- 
low the  ground,  and  you  take  all  that  grows  above 
it.  Then  each  can  take  away  his  share  when  he  is 
ready,  and  there  will  be  no  trouble  to  measure." 

The  Coyote  agreed,  and  when  the  time  came 
they  plowed  the  place  with  a  sharp  stick  and 
planted  their  potatoes.  All  summer  they  worked 
together  in  the  field,  hoeing  down  the  weeds  with 
stone  hoes  and  letting  in  water  now  and  then  from 
the  irrigating-ditch.  When  harvest-time  came,  the 
Coyote  went  and  cut  off  all  the  potato-tops  at  the 

1  The  Coyote, you  must  know,  is  very  stupid  about  some  things;  and  in  al- 
most all  Pueblo  fairy  stories  is  the  victim  of  one  joke  or  another.  The  bear, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  one  of  the  wisest  of  animals. 


3° 


THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BEAR         31 

ground  and  carried  them  home,  and  afterward  the 
Bear  scratched  out  the  potatoes  from  the  ground 
with  his  big  claws  and  took  them  to  his  house. 
When  the  Coyote  saw  this  his  eyes  were  opened, 
and  he  said : 

"  But  this  is  not  fair.  You  have  those  round 
things,  which  are  good  to  eat,  but  what  I  took  home 
we  cannot  eat  at  all,  neither  my  wife  nor  I." 

"  But,  friend  Coyote, "answered  the  Bear,  gravely, 
"  did  we  not  make  an  agreement?  Then  we  must 
stick  to  it  like  men." 

The  Coyote  could  not  answer,  and  went  home ; 
but  he  was  not  satisfied. 

The  next  spring,  as  they  met  one  day,  the  Bear  said: 

"  Come,  friend  Coyote,  I  think  we  ought  to  plant 
this  good  land  again,  and  this  time  let  us  plant  it 
in  corn.  But  last  year  you  were  dissatisfied  with 
your  share,  so  this  year  we  will  change.  You  take 
what  is  below  the  ground  for  your  share,  and  I  will 
take  only  what  grows  above." 

This  seemed  very  fair  to  the  Coyote,  and  he 
agreed.  They  plowed  and  planted  and  tended  the 
corn ;  and  when  it  came  harvest-time  the  Bear 
gathered  all  the  stalks  and  ears  and  carried  them 
home.  When  the  Coyote  came  to  dig  his  share,  he 
found  nothing  but  roots  like  threads,  which  were 
good  for  nothing.  He  was  very  much  dissatisfied  ; 
but  the  Bear  reminded  him  of  their  agreement,  and 
he  could  say  nothing. 

That  winter  the  Coyote  was  walking  one  day  by 
the  river  (the  Rio  Grande),  when  he  saw  the  Bear 
sitting  on  the  ice  and  eating  a  fish.  The  Coyote 
was  very  fond  of  fish,  and  coming  up,  he  said : 


32  T£E-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

"  Friend  Bear,  where  did  you  get  such  a  fat 
fish?" 

"  Oh,  I  broke  a  hole  in  the  ice,"  said  the  Bear, 
"  and  fished  for  them.  There  are  many  here." 
And  he  went  on  eating,  without  offering  any  to  the 
Coyote. 

''Won't  you  show  me  how,  friend?"  asked  the 
Coyote,  fainting  with  hunger  at  the  smell  of  the 
fish. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  the  Bear.  "It  is  very  easy." 
And  he  broke  a  hole  in  the  ice  with  his  paw.  "Now, 
friend  Coyote,  sit  down  and  let  your  tail  hang  in 
the  water,  and  very  soon  you  will  feel  a  nibble. 
But  you  must  not  pull  it  till  I  tell  you." 

So  the  Coyote  sat  down  with  his  tail  in  the  cold 
water.  Soon  the  ice  began  to  form  around  it,  and 
he  called  : 

"  Friend  Bear,  I  feel  a  bite !  Let  me  pull  him 
out." 

"No,  no!  Not  yet!"  cried  the  Bear,  "wait 
till  he  gets  a  good  hold,  and  then  you  will  not  lose 
him." 

So  the  Coyote  waited.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
hole  was  frozen  solid,  and  his  tail  was  fast. 

"  Now,  friend  Coyote,"  called  the  Bear,  "  I  think 
you  have  him.  Pull !  " 

The  Coyote  pulled  with  all  his  might,  but  could 
not  lift  his  tail  from  the  ice,  and  there  he  was  —  a 
prisoner.  While  he  pulled  and  howled,  the  Bear 
shouted  with  laughter,  and  rolled  on  the  ice  and 
ha-ha'd  till  his  sides  were  sore.  Then  he  took  his 
fish  and  went  home,  stopping  every  little  to  laugh 
at  the  thought  of  the  Coyote. 


THE  COYOTE  AND  THE  BEAR         33 

There  on  the  ice  the  Coyote  had  to  stay  until  a 
thaw  liberated  him,  and  when  he  got  home  he  was 
very  wet  and  cold  and  half  starved.  And  from  that 
day  to  this  he  has  never  forgiven  the  Bear,  and  will 
not  even  speak  to  him  when  they  meet,  and  the 
Bear  says,  politely,  "  Good  morning,  friend  Too- 
whay-deh." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  cry  the  boys. 

"That  is  so,"  says  Felipe.  "  But  now  it  is  time 
to  go  home.  Too-kwai!" 

The  story-telling  is  over  for  to-night.  Grandmo- 
ther Reyes  is  unrolling  the  mattresses  upon  the  floor; 
and  with  pleasant  "  good-nights"  we  scatter  for  our 
homes  here  and  there  in  the  quaint  adobe  village. 


VI 


OW  there  is  a  tail  to  you,  compadre 
[friend],"  said  old  Desiderio,  nodding 
at  Patricio 1  after  we  had  sat  awhile  in 
silence  around  the  crackling  fire. 

Patricio  had  a  broad  strip  of  raw- 
hide across  his  knee,  and  was  scraping 
the  hair  from  it  with  a  dull  knife.  It 
was  high  time  to  be  thinking  of  new 
soles,  for  already  there  was  a  wee  hole 
in  the  bottom  of  each  of  his  moccasins  ; 
and  as  for  Benito,  his  shy  little  grandson,  his  toes 
were  all  abroad. 

But  shrilly  as  the  cold  night-wind  outside  hinted 
the  wisdom  of  speedy  cobbling,  Patricio  had  no  wish 

1  Pronounced  Pah-tr^e-see-oh. 

34 


THE   FIRST   OF    THE    RATTLESNAKES  35 

to  acquire  that  burro's  tail,  so,  laying  the  rawhide 
and  knife  upon  the  floor  beside  him,  he  deliber- 
ately rolled  a  modest  pinch  of  the  aromatic  koo- 
ah-rce  in  a  corn-husk,  lighted  it  at  the  coals,  and 
drew  Benito's  tousled  head  to  his  side. 

"You  have  heard,"  he  said,  with  a  slow  puff, 
"  about  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  the  mighty  medicine-man 
who  lived  here  in  Isleta  in  the  times  of  the  an- 
cients?" 

"A/t-/i/"  (Yes)  cried  all  the  boys.  "  You  have 
promised  to  tell  us  how  he  married  the  moon !  " 

"  Another  time  I  will  do  so.  But  now  I  shall 
tell  you  something  that  was  before  that  —  for  Nah- 
chu  ru-chu  had  many  strange  adventures  before 
he  married  Pah-hlee-oh,  the  Moon -Mother.  Do 
you  know  why  the  rattlesnake — which  is  the  king 
of  all  snakes  and  alone  has  the  power  of  death  in 
his  mouth  —  always  shakes  his  guaje^  before  he 
bites  ? " 

"Een-dah!"  chorused  Ramon  and  Benito,  and 
Fat  Juan,  and  Tomas,2  very  eagerly  ;  for  they  were 
particularly  fond  of  hearing  about  the  exploits  of 
the  greatest  of  Tee-wahn  medicine-men. 

"  Listen,  then,  and  you  shall  hear." 

In  those  days  Nah-chu-ru-chu  had  a  friend  who 
lived  in  a  pueblo  nearer  the  foot  of  the  Eagle- 
Feather  Mountain  than  this,  in  the  Place  of  the 
Red  Earth,  where  still  are  its  ruins ;  and  the  two 
young  men  went  often  to  the  mountain  together 
to  bring  wood  and  to  hunt.  Now,  Nah-chu-ru- 

1  The  Pueblo  sacred  rattle. 
2  Pronounced  Rah-mohn,  Bay-nee-toh,  Whahn,  Toh-mahs. 


36  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

chu  had  a  white  heart,  and  never  thought  ill ;  but 
the  friend  had  the  evil  road  and  became  jealous, 
for  Nah-chu-ru-chu  was  a  better  hunter.  But  he 
said  nothing,  and  made  as  if  he  still  loved  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu  truly. 

One  day  the  friend  came  over  from  his  village 
and  said : 

"  Friend  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  let  us  go  to-morrow 
for  wood  and  to  have  a  hunt. 

"It  is  well,"  replied  Nah-chu-ru-chu.  Next 
morning  he  started  very  early  and  came  to  the  vil- 
lage of  his  friend ;  and  together  they  went  to  the 
mountain.  When  they  had  gathered  much  wood, 
and  lashed  it  in  bundles  for  carrying,  they  started 
off  in  opposite  directions  to  hunt.  In  a  short  time 
each  returned  with  a  fine  fat  deer. 

"  But  why  should  we  hasten  to  go  home,  friend 
Nah-chu-ru-chu  ?"  said  the  friend.  "  It  is  still  early, 
and  we  have  much  time.  Come,  let  us  stop  here 
and  amuse  ourselves  with  a  game." 

"It  is  well,  friend,"  answered  Nah-chu-ru-chu; 
"  but  what  game  shall  we  play  ?  For  we  have 
neither  pa-toles,  nor  hoops,  nor  any  other  game 
here." 

"  See !  we  will  roll  the  mah-khur^  for  while  I 
was  waiting  for  you  I  made  one  that  we  might 
play" — and  the  false  friend  drew  from  beneath  his 
blanket  a  pretty  painted  hoop ;  but  really  he  had 

1  The  game  of  mah-kktir,  which  the  Pueblos  learned  from  the  Apaches  many 
centuries  ago,  is  a  very  simple  one,  but  is  a  favorite  with  all  witches  as  a  snare 
for  those  whom  they  would  injure.  A  small  hoop  of  willow  is  painted  gaily, 
and  has  ornamental  buckskin  thongs  stretched  across  it  from  side  to  side, 
spoke-fashion.  The  challenger  to  a  game  rolls  the  hoop  rapidly  past  the  chal- 
lenged, who  must  throw  a  lance  through  between  the  spokes  before  it  ceases 
to  roll. 


•         v 


AS    HE    CAUGHT    THE    HOOP    HE    WAS    INSTANTLY    CHANGED    INTO 
A    POOR    COYOTE ! " 


THE   FIRST   OF    THE   RATTLESNAKES  39 

made  it  at  home,  and  had  brought  it  hidden,  on 
purpose  to  do  harm  to  Nah-chu-ru-chu. 

"  Now  go  down  there  and  catch  it  when  I  roll 
it,"  said  he ;  and  Nah-chu-ru-chu  did  so.  But  as  he 
caught  the  hoop  when  it  came  rolling,  he  was  no 
longer  Nah-chu-ru-chu  the  brave  hunter,  but  a  poor 
Coyote  with  great  tears  rolling  down  his  nose ! 

"  Hu  !  "  said  the  false  friend,  tauntingly,  "  we  do 
this  to  each  other !  So  now  you  have  all  the  plains 
to  wander  over,  to  the  north,  and  west,  and  south ; 
but  you  can  never  go  to  the  east.  And  if  you  are 
not  lucky,  the  dogs  will  tear  you ;  but  if  you  are 
lucky,  they  may  have  pity  on  you.  So  now  good- 
by,  for  this  is  the  last  I  shall  ever  see  of  you." 

Then  the  false  friend  went  away,  laughing,  to  his 
village ;  and  the  poor  Coyote  wandered  aimlessly, 
weeping  to  think  that  he  had  been  betrayed  by  the 
one  he  had  loved  and  trusted  as  a  brother.  For 
four  days  he  prowled  about  the  outskirts  of  Isleta, 
looking  wistfully  at  his  home.  The  fierce  dogs  ran 
out  to  tear  him;  but  when  they  came  near  they 
only  sniffed  at  him,  and  went  away  without  hurting 
him.  He  could  find  nothing  to  eat  save  dry  bones, 
and  old  thongs  or  soles  of  moccasins. 

On  the  fourth  day  he  turned  westward,  and 
wandered  until  he  came  to  Mesita.1  There  was  no 
town  of  the  Lagunas  there  then,  and  only  a  shep- 
herd's hut  and  corral,  in  which  were  an  old  Queres 
Indian  and  his  grandson,  tending  their  goats. 

Next  morning  when  the  grandson  went  out  very 
early  to  let  the  goats  from  the  corral,  he  saw  a 
Coyote  run  out  from  among  the  goats.  It  went 

1  An  outlying  colony  of  Laguna,  forty  miles  from  Isleta. 


40  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

off  a  little  way,  and  then  sat  down  and  watched 
him.  The  boy  counted  the  goats,  and  none  were 
missing,  and  he  thought  it  strange.  But  he  said 
nothing  to  his  grandfather. 

For  three  more  mornings  the  very  same  thing- 
happened  ;  and  on  the  fourth  morning  the  boy  told 
his  grandfather.  The  old  man  came  out,  and  set 
the  dogs  after  the  Coyote,  which  was  sitting  a  little 
way  off;  but  when  they  came  near  they  would  not 
touch  him. 

"  I  suspect  there  is  something  wrong  here,"  said 
the  old  shepherd ;  and  he  called :  "  Coyote,  are  you 
coyote-true,  or  are  you  people  ?  " 

But  the  Coyote  could  not  answer;  and  the  old 
man  called  again  :  "  Coyote,  are  you  people?  " 

At  that  the  Coyote  nodded  his  head,  "  Yes." 

"  If  that  is  so,  come  here  and  be  not  afraid  of 
us ;  for  we  will  be  the  ones  to  help  you  out  of  this 
trouble." 

So  the  Coyote  came  to  them  and  licked  their 
hands,  and  they  gave  it  food  —  for  it  was  dying  of 
hunger.  When  it  was  fed,  the  old  man  said : 

"  Now,  son,  you  are  going  out  with  the  goats 
along  the  creek,  and  there  you  will  see  some  wil- 
lows. With  your  mind  look  at  two  willows,  and 
mark  them  ;  and  to-morrow  morning  you  must  go 
and  bring  one  of  them." 

The  boy  went  away  tending  the  goats,  and  the 
Coyote  stayed  with  the  old  man.  Next  morning, 
when  they  awoke  very  early,  they  saw  all  the  earth 
wrapped  in  a  white  mania}- 

1  This  figure  is  always  used  by  the  Pueblos  in  speaking  of  snow  in  connec- 
tion with  sacred  things. 


<£P   , 
COYOTE,  ARE    YOU    PEOPLE?" 


THE   FIRST   OF   THE   RATTLESNAKES  43 

"  Now,  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "  you  must  wear 
only  your  moccasins  and  breech-clout,  and  go  like  a 
man  to  the  two  willows  you  marked  yesterday.  To 
one  of  them  you  must  pray;  and  then  cut  the  other 
and  bring  it  to  me." 

The  boy  did  so  and  came  back  with  the  willow 
stick.  The  old  man  prayed,  and  made  a  mah-khur 
hoop  ;  and  bidding  the  Coyote  stand  a  little  way 
off  and  stick  his  head  through  the  hoop  before  it 
should  stop  rolling,  rolled  it  toward  him.  The 
Coyote  waited  till  the  hoop  came  very  close,  and 
gave  a  great  jump  and  put  his  head  through  it  be- 
fore it  could  stop.  And  lo  !  there  stood  Nah-chu- 
ru-chu,  young  and  handsome  as  ever ;  but  his 
beautiful  suit  of  fringed  buckskin  was  all  in  rags. 
For  four  days  he  stayed  there  and  was  cleansed 
with  the  cleansing  of  the  medicine-man ;  and  then 
the  old  shepherd  said  to  him : 

"  Now,  friend  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  there  is  a  road.1 
But  take  with  you  this  faja?  for  though  your 
power  is  great,  you  have  submitted  to  this  evil. 
When  you  get  home,  he  who  did  this  to  you  will 
be  first  to  know,  and  he  will  come  pretending  to  be 
your  friend,  as  if  he  had  done  nothing ;  and  he  will 
ask  you  to  go  hunting  again.  So  you  must  go  ; 
and  when  you  come  to  the  mountain,  with  t\i\sfaja 
you  shall  repay  him." 

Nah-chu-ru-chu  thanked  the  kind  old  shepherd, 
and  started  home.  But  when  he  came  to  the  Bad 
Hill  and  looked  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Rio 
Grande,  his  heart  sank.  All  the  grass  and 

1  That  is,  you  can  go  home. 
2  A  fine  woven  belt,  with  figures  in  red  and  green. 


44  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

fields  and  trees  were  dry  and  dead  —  for  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu  was  the  medicine-man  who  controlled 
the  clouds,  so  no  rain  could  fall  when  he  was 
gone ;  and  the  eight  days  he  had  been  a  Coyote 
were  in  truth  eight  years.  The  river  was  dry, 
and  the  springs ;  and  many  of  the  people  were 
dead  from  thirst,  and  the  rest  were  dying.  But 
as  Nah-chu-ru-chu  came  down  the  hill,  it  began 
to  rain  again,  and  all  the  people  were  glad. 

When  he  came  into  the  pueblo,  all  the  fam- 
ishing people  came  out  to  welcome  him.  And 
soon  came  the  false  -  friend,  making  as  if  he  had 
never  bewitched  him  nor  had  known  whither  he 
disappeared. 

In  a  few  days  the  false  friend  came  again  to 
propose  a  hunt ;  and  next  morning  they  went  to 
the  mountain  together.  Nah-chu-ru-chu  had  the 
pretty  faja  wound  around  his  waist ;  and  when 
the  wind  blew  his  blanket  aside,  the  other  saw  it. 

"Ay!  What  a  pretty  faja!"  cried  the  false 
friend.  "  Give  it  to  me,  friend  Nah-chu-ru-chu." 

"  Een-dah  !  "  (No)  said  Nah-chu-ru-chu.  But  the 
false  friend  begged  so  hard  that  at  last  he  said : 

"  Then  I  will  roll  it  to  you ;  and  if  you  can 
catch  it  before  it  unwinds,  you  may  have  it." 

So  he  wound  it  up,1  and  holding  by  one  end 
gave  it  a  push  so  that  it  ran  away  from  him, 
unrolling  as  it  went.  The  false  friend  jumped 
for  it,  but  it  was  unrolled  before  he  caught  it. 

"Een-dah!"  said  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  pulling  it 
back.  "  If  you  do  not  care  enough  for  it  to  be 
spryer  than  that,  you  cannot  have  it." 

1  Like  a  roll  of  tape. 


AS    HE    SEIZED    IT    HE    WAS    CHANGED    FROM    A    TALL    YOUNG 
MAN    INTO    A    GREAT    RATTLESNAKE." 


THE   FIRST   OF   THE   RATTLESNAKES  47 

The  false  friend  begged  for  another  trial ;  so 
Nah-chu-ru-chu  rolled  it  again.  This  time  the 
false  friend  caught  it  before  it  was  unrolled ;  and 
lo !  instead  of  a  tall  young  man,  there  lay  a  great 
rattlesnake  with  tears  rolling  from  his  lidless  eyes ! 

"  We,  too,  do  this  to  each  other ! "  said  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu.  He  took  from  his  medicine-pouch  a 
pinch  of  the  sacred  meal  and  laid  it  on  the  snake's 
flat  head  for  its  food ;  and  then  a  pinch  of  the 
corn-pollen  to  tame  it.1  And  the  snake  ran  out 
its  red  forked  tongue,  and  licked  them. 

"  Now,"  said  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  "  this  mountain 
and  all  rocky  places  shall  be  your  home.  But 
you  can  never  again  do  to  another  harm,  without 
warning,  as  you  did  to  me.  For  see,  there  is 
a  guaje*  in  your  tail,  and  whenever  you  would  do 
any  one  an  injury,  you  must  warn  them  before- 
hand with  your  rattle." 

"And  is  that  the  reason  why  Ch'ah-rah-rah-deh 
always  rattles  to  give  warning  before  he  bites  ?  " 
asked  Fat  Juan,  who  is  now  quite  as  often  called 
Juan  Biscocho  (John  Biscuit),  since  I  photo- 
graphed him  one  day  crawling  out  of  the  big 
adobe  bake-oven  where  he  had  been  hiding. 

"  That  is  the  very  reason.  Then  Nah-chu-ru- 
chu  left  his  false  friend,  from  whom  all  the  rattle- 
snakes are  descended,  and  came  back  to  his  vil- 
lage. From  that  time  all  went  well  with  Isleta, 
for  Nah-chu-ru-chu  was  at  home  again  to  attend 
to  the  clouds.  There  was  plenty  of  rain,  and  the 
river  began  to  run  again,  and  the  springs  flowed. 

IThis  same  spell  is  still  used  here  by  the  Hee-but-kdi,or  snake-charmers. 
2  Pronounced  Gwah-heh. 


48  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

The  people  plowed  and  planted  again,  as  they  had 
not  been  able  to  do  for  several  years,  and  all  their 
work  prospered.  As  for  the  people  who  lived  in 
the  Place  of  the  Red  Earth,  they  all  moved  down 
here,1  because  the  Apaches  were  very  bad  ;  and 
here  their  descendants  live  to  this  day." 

"  Is  that  so  ? "  sighed  all  the  boys  in  chorus, 
sorry  that  the  story  was  so  soon  done. 

"  That  is  so,"  replied  old  Patricio.  "And  now, 
compadre  Antonio,  there  is  a  tail  to  you." 

"Well,  then,  I  will  tell  a  story  which  they 
showed  me  in  Taos2  last  year,"  said  the  old  man. 

"Ah-h!"  said  the  boys. 

"  It  is  about  the  Coyote  and  the  Woodpecker." 

1  It  is  a  proved  fact  that  there  was  such  a  migration. 
2  The  most  northern  of  the  Pueblo  cities.     Its  people  are  also  Tee-wahn. 


VII 

THE    COYOTE    AND    THEv  WOODPECKER 

WELL,  once  upon  a  time  a  Coyote  and  his 
family  lived  near  the  edge  of  a  wood.  There 
was  a  big  hollow  tree  there,  and  in  it  lived  an  old 
Woodpecker  and  his  wife  and  children.  One  day 
as  the  Coyote-father  was  strolling  along  the  edge 
of  the  forest  he  met  the  Woodpecker- father. 

"  Hin-no-kah-kee-ma  "  (Good  evening),  said  the 
Coyote;  "how  do  you  do  to-day,  friend  Hloo- 
ree-deh  ? " 

"  Very  well,  thank  you  ;  and  how  are  you,  friend 
Too-whay-deh  ? " 

So  they  stopped  and  talked  together  awhile ; 
and  when  they  were  about  to  go  apart  the  Coyote 
said : 

"  Friend  Woodpecker,  why  do  you  not  come  as 
friends  to  see  us?  Come  to  our  house  to  supper 
this  evening,  and  bring  your  family." 

"  Thank  you,  friend  Coyote,"  said  the  Wood- 
pecker; "we  will  come  with  joy." 

So  that  evening,  when  the  Coyote-mother  had 
made  supper  ready,  there  came  the  Woodpecker- 
father  and  the  Woodpecker-mother  with  their 
three  children.  When  they  had  come  in,  all  five 

5  49 


50  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

of  the  Woodpeckers  stretched  themselves  as  they 
do  after  flying,  and  by  that  showed  their  pretty 
feathers  —  for  the  Hloo-ree-deh  has  yellow  and 
red  marks  under  its  wings.  While  they  were 
eating  supper,  too,  they  sometimes  spread  their 


THE    COYOTES    AT     SUPPER    WITH    THE    WOODPECKERS. 

wings,  and  displayed  their  bright  under-side. 
They  praised  the  supper  highly,  and  said  the 
Coyote-mother  was  a  perfect  housekeeper.  When 
it  was  time  to  go,  they  thanked  the  Coy- 
otes very  kindly  and  invited  them  to  come  to 


THE   COYOTE   AND    THE   WOODPECKER  51 

supper  at  their  house  the  following  evening. 
But  when  they  were  gone,  the  Coyote-father 
could  hold  himself  no  longer,  and  he  said : 

"  Did  you  see  what  airs  those  Woodpeckers 
put  on  ?  Always  showing  off  their  bright  fea- 
thers ?  But  I  want  them  to  know  that  the 
Coyotes  are  equal  to  them.  /  7/  show  them  !  " 

Next  day,  the  Coyote-father  had  all  his  fam- 
ily at  work  bringing  wood,  and  built  a  great 
fire  in  front  of  his  house.  When  it  was  time 
to  go  to  the  house  of  the  Woodpeckers  he 
called  his  wife  and  children  to  the  fire,  and 
lashed  a  burning  stick  under  each  of  their  arms, 
with  the  burning  end  pointing  forward ;  and 
then  he  fixed  himself  in  the  same  way. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "we  will  show  them!  When 
we  get  there,  you  must  lift  up  your  arms  now  and 
then,  to  show  them  that  we  are  as  good  as  the 
Woodpeckers." 

When  they  came  to  the  house  of  the  Woodpeck- 
ers and  went  in,  all  the  Coyotes  kept  lifting  their 
arms  often,  to  show  the  bright  coals  underneath. 
But  as  they  sat  down  to  supper,  one  Coyote-girl 
gave  a  shriek  and  said : 

"Oh,  tata!     My  fire  is  burning  me  !  " 

"  Be  patient,  my  daughter,"  said  the  Coyote- 
father,  severely,  "  and  do  not  cry  about  little 
things." 

"Ow!"  cried  the  other  Coyote-girl  in  a  mo- 
ment, "my  fire  has  gone  out!" 

This  was  more  than  the  Coyote-father  could 
stand,  and  he  reproved  her  angrily. 

"But  how  is  it,  friend  Coyote,"  said  the  Wood- 


$2  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

pecker,  politely,  "  that  your  colors  are  so  bright  at 
first,  but  very  soon  become  black  ? " 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  beauty  of  our  colors,"  replied 
the  Coyote,  smothering  his  rage;  "that  they  are 
not  always  the  same — like  other  people's — but 
turn  all  shades." 

But  the  Coyotes  were  very  uncomfortable,  ana 
made  an  excuse  to  hurry  home  as  soon  as  they 
could.  When  they  got  there,  the  Coyote-father 
whipped  them  all  for  exposing  him  to  be  laughed 
at.  But  the  Woodpecker- father  gathered  his  chil- 
dren around  him,  and  said: 

"  Now,  my  children,  you  see  what  the  Coyotes 
have  done.  Never  in  your  life  try  to  appear  what 
you  are  not.  Be  just  what  you  really  are,  and  put 
on  no  false  colors." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  cried  the  boys. 
"  That  is  so ;  and  it  is  as  true  for  people  as  for 
birds.      Now,  too-kwai — for  it  is  bedtime." 


THL. 


VIII 


'MONO  the  principal  heroes  of 
the  Tee-wahn  folk-lore,  I  hear 
of  none  more  frequently  in  the 
winter  story-tellings  to  which 
my  aboriginal  neighbors  admit 
me,  than  the  mighty  Nah-chu- 
ru-chu.  To  this  day  his  name, 
which  means  "The  Bluish  Light 
of  Dawn,"  is  deeply  revered  by 
the  quaint  people  who  claim  him 
as  one  of  their  forefathers.  He  had  no  parents, 
for  he  was  created  by  the  Trues  themselves,  and 
by  them  was  given  such  extraordinary  powers  as 
were  second  only  to  their  own.  His  wonderful 


53 


54  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

feats  and  startling  adventures  —  as  still  related  by 
the  believing  Isletenos  —  would  fill  a  volume.  One 
of  these  fanciful  myths  has  interested  me  particu- 
larly, not  only  for  its  important  bearing  on  certain 
ethnological  matters,  but  for  its  intrinsic  qualities 
as  well.  It  is  a  thoroughly  characteristic  leaf  from 
the  legendary  lore  of  the  Southwest. 

Long  before  the  first  Spaniards  came  to  New 
Mexico  (and  that  was  three  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago)  Isleta  stood  where  it  stands  to-day 
—  on  a  lava  ridge  that  defies  the  gnawing  current 
of  the  Rio  Grande.1  In  those  far  days,  Nah-chu- 
ru-chu  dwelt  in  Isleta,  and  was  a  leader  of  his 
people.  A  weaver  by  trade,2  his  rude  loom  hung 
from  the  dark  rafters  of  his  room ;  and  in  it  he 
wove  the  strong  black  manias  which  are  the  dress 
of  Pueblo  women  to  this  day. 

Besides  being  very  wise  in  medicine,  Nah-chu- 
ru-chu  was  young,  and  tall,  and  strong,  and  hand- 
some ;  and  all  the  girls  of  the  village  thought  it  a 
shame  that  he  did  not  care  to  take  a  wife.  For 
him  the  shyest  dimples  played,  for  him  the  whitest 
teeth  flashed  out,  as  the  owners  passed  him  in  the 
plaza;  but  he  had  no  eyes  for  them.  Then,  in 
the  naive  custom  of  the  Tee-wahn,  bashful  fingers 
worked  wondrous  fringed  shirts  of  buckskin,  or 
gay  awl-sheaths,  which  found  their  way  to  his 
house  by  unknown  messengers —  each  as  much  as 

1  Bandelier  has  published  a  contrary  opinion,  to  which  I  do  not  think  he 
would  now  cling.     The  folk-lore  and  the  very  name  of  the  town  fully  prove  to 
me  that  its  site  has  not  changed  in  historic  times. 

2  In  the  ancient  days,  weaving  was  practised  only  by  the  men,  among  the 
Pueblos.     This  old  usage  is  now  reversed,  and  it  is  the  women  who  weave, 
except  in  the  pueblos  of  Moqui. 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON      55 

to  say,  "She  who  made  this  is  yours,  if  you  will 
have  her."  But  Nah-chu-ru-chu  paid  no  more  atten- 
tion to  the  gifts  than  to  the  smiles,  and  just  kept 
weaving  and  weaving — such  manias  as  were  never 
seen  in  the  land  of  the  Tee-wahn  before  or  since. 
The  most  persistent  of  his  admirers  were  two 
sisters  who  were  called  Ee-eh-choo-ri-ctidhm-nin 

—  the  Yellow-Corn-Maidens.      They   were  both 
young  and  pretty,  but  they  "had  the  evil  road" 

—  which   is  the   Indian  way  of  saying  that  they 
were  possessed  of  a  magic  power  which  they  always 
used  for  ill.     When  all  the  other  girls  gave  up, 
discouraged  at  Nah-chu-ru-chu's  indifference,  the 
Yellow-Corn-Maidens  kept  coming  day  after  day, 
trying  to  attract  him.     At  last  the  matter  became 
such  a  nuisance  to  Nah-chu-ru-chu  that  he  hired 
the  deep-voiced  town-crier  to  go  through  all  the 
streets  and  announce  that  in  four  days  Nah-chu- 
ru-chu  would  choose  a  wife. 

For  dippers,  to  take  water  from  the  big  earthen 
tinajas,  the  Tee-wahn  used  then,  as  they  use  to- 
day, queer  little  ladle-shaped  omates  made  of  a 
gourd ;  but  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  being  a  great  medi- 
cine-man and  very  rich,  had  a  dipper  of  pure  pearl, 
shaped  like  the  gourds,  but  wonderfully  precious. 

"On  the  fourth  day,"  proclaimed  the  crier, 
"  Nah-chu-ru-chu  will  hang  his  pearl  ornate  at  his 
door,  where  every  girl  who  will  may  throw  a  hand- 
ful of  corn- meal  at  it.  And  she  whose  meal  is  so 
well  ground  that  it  sticks  to  the  ornate,  she  shall  be 
the  wife  of  Nah-chu-ru-chu  ! " 

When  this  strange  news  came  rolling  down  the 
still  evening  air,  there  was  a  great  scampering  of 


56  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

little  moccasined  feet.  The  girls  ran  out  from 
hundreds  of  gray  adobe  houses  to  catch  every 
word;  and  when  the  crier  had  passed  on,  they  ran 
back  into  the  store-rooms  and  began  to  ransack  the 
corn-bins  for  the  biggest,  evenest,  and  most  perfect 
ears.  Shelling  the  choicest,  each  took  her  few 
handfuls  of  kernels  to  the  sloping  metate^  and 


THE    ISLETA    GIRLS    GRINDING    CORN    WITH    THE    "MA? 
ON    THE    "METATE." 

with  the  mano,  or  hand-stone,  scrubbed  the  grist 
up  and  down,  and  up  and  down,  till  the  hard  corn 
was  a  soft,  blue  meal.  All  the  next  day,  and 
the  next,  and  the  next,  they  ground  it  over  and 
over  again,  until  it  grew  finer  than  ever  flour  was 
before;  and  every  girl  felt  sure  that  her  meal 
would  stick  to  the  omale  of  the  handsome  young 
weaver.  The  Yellow-Corn-Maidens  worked  hard- 
est of  all ;  day  and  night  for  four  days  they  ground 
and  ground,  with  all  the  magic  spells  they  knew. 

1  The  slab  of  lava  which  still  serves  as  a  hand-mill  in  Pueblo  houses. 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON      57 

Now,  in  those  far-off  days  the  Moon  had  not 
gone  up  into  the  sky  to  live,  but  was  a  maiden  of 
Shee-eh-whib-bak.  And  a  very  beautiful  girl  she 
was,  though  blind  of  one  eye.  She  had  long  admired 
Nah-chu-ru-chu,  but  was  always  too  maidenly  to 
try  to  attract  his  attention  as  other  girls  had  done ; 
and  at  the  time  when  the  crier  made  his  proclama- 
tion, she  happened  to  be 
away  at  her  father's  ranch. 
It  was  only  upon  the  fourth 
day  that  she  returned  to 
town,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  girls  were  to  go  with 
their  meal  to  test  it  upon 
the  magic  dipper.  The  two 
Yellow-Corn-Maidens  were 
just  coming  from  their  house 
as  she  passed,  and  told  her 
of  what  was  to  be  done. 
They  were  very  confident 
of  success,  and  told  the 
Moon-girl  only  to  pain  her ; 
and  laughed  derisively  as 
she  went  running  to  her 
home. 

By  this  time  a  long  file 
of  girls  was  coming  to  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu's  house,  outside 
whose  door  hung  the  pearl 
ornate.  Each  girl  carried  in  THE  MOON_MAIDEN. 

her  left  hand  a  little  jar  of 

meal ;  and  as  they  passed  the  door  one  by  one,  each 
took  from  the  jar  a  handful  and  threw  it  against 


58  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

the  magic  dipper.  But  each  time  the  meal  dropped 
to  the  ground,  and  left  the  pure  pearl  undimmed 
and  radiant  as  ever. 

At  last  came  the  Yellow-Corn-Maidens,  who  had 
waited  to  watch  the  failure  of  the  others.  As  they 
came  where  they  could  see  Nah-chu-ru-chu  sitting 
at  his  loom,  they  called  :  "  Ah  !  Here  we  have  the 
meal  that  will  stick  !  "  and  each  threw  a  handful  at 
the  ornate.  But  it  did  not  stick  at  all ;  and  still 
from  his  seat  Nah-chu-ru-chu  could  see,  in  that 
mirror-like  surface,  all  that  went  on  outside. 

The  Yellow-Corn-Maidens  were  very  angry,  and 
instead  of  passing  on  as  the  others  had  done,  they 
stood  there  and  kept  throwing  and  throwing  at  the 
ornate,  which  smiled  back  at  them  with  undimin- 
ished  luster. 

Just  then,  last  of  all,  came  the  Moon,  with  a 
single  handful  of  meal  which  she  had  hastily  ground. 
The  two  sisters  were  in  a  fine  rage  by  this  time, 
and  mocked  her,  saying: 

"  Hoh  !  P' dh-hlee-oh?  you  poor  thing,  we  are  very 
sorry  for  you !  Here  we  have  been  grinding  our 
meal  four  days  and  still  it  will  not  stick,  and  you 
we  did  not  tell  till  to-day.  How,  then,  can  you 
ever  hope  to  win  Nah-chu-ru-chu  ?  Pooh,  you  silly 
little  thing!" 

But  the  Moon  paid  no  attention  whatever  to 
their  taunts.  Drawing  back  her  little  dimpled 
hand,  she  threw  the  meal  gently  against  the  pearl 
ornate,  and  so  fine  was  it  ground  that  every  tiniest 
bit  of  it  clung  to  the  polished  shell,  and  not  a  par- 
ticle fell  to  the  ground. 

1  Tee-wahn  name  of  the  moon;  literally,  "Water-Maiden." 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON      61 

When  Nah-chu-ru-chu  saw  that,  he  rose  up 
quickly  from  his  loom  and  came  and  took  the 
Moon  by  the  hand,  saying,  ''You  are  she  who 
shall  be  my  wife.  You  shall  never  want  for  any- 
thing, since  I  have  very  much."  And  he  gave  her 
many  beautiful  mantas,  and  cotton  wraps,  and  fat 
boots  of  buckskin  that  wrap  round  and  round,  that 
she  might  dress  as  the  wife  of  a  rich  chief.  But  the 
Yellow-Corn-Maidens,  who  had  seen  it  all,  went 
away  vowing  vengeance  on  the  Moon. 

Nah-chu-ru-chu  and  his  sweet  Moon-wife  were 
very  happy  together.  There  was  no  other  such 
housekeeper  in  all  the  pueblo  as  she,  and  no  other 
hunter  brought  home  so  much  buffalo-meat  from 
the  vast  plains  to  the  east,  nor  so  many  antelopes, 
and  black-tailed  deer^  and  jack-rabbits  from  the 
Manzanos  as  did  Nah-chu-ru-chu.  But  he  con- 
stantly was  saying  to  her : 

"Moon-wife,  beware  of  the  Yellow-Corn-Maid- 
ens, for  they  have  the  evil  road  and  will  try  to  do 
you  harm,  but  you  must  always  refuse  to  do  what- 
ever they  propose."  And  always  the  young  wife 
promised. 

One  day  the  Yellow-Corn-Maidens  came  to  the 
house  and  said : 

"Friend  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  we  are  going  to  the 
llano1  to  gather  amole?  Will  you  not  let  your  wife 
go  with  us  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  she  may  go,"  said  Nah-chu-ru-chu; 
but  taking  her  aside,  he  said,  "  Now  be  sure  that 
you  refuse  whatever  they  may  propose." 

1  Plain. 

2  The  soapy  root  of  the  palmilla,  used  for  washing.  < 

6 


62  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

The  Moon  promised,  and  started  away  with  the 
Yellow- Corn-Maidens. 

In  those  days  there  was  only  a  thick  forest  of 
cottonwoods  where  are  now  the  smiling  vineyards, 
and  gardens,  and  orchards  of  Isleta,  and  to  reach 
the  llano  the  three  women  had  to  go  through  this 
forest.  In  the  very  center  of  it  they  came  to  a 
deep  pozo — ?a  square  well,  with  steps  at  one  side 
leading  down  to  the  water's  edge. 

"Ay!"  said  the  Yellow-Corn-Maidens,  "how 
hot  and  thirsty  is  our  walk ! ,  Come,  let  us  get,  a 
drink  of  water." 

But  the  Moon,  remembering  her  husband's 
words,  said  politely  that  she  did  not  wish  to  drink. 
They  urged  in  vain,  but  at  last,  looking  down  into 
the  pozo,  called : 

"  Oh,  Moon-friend  \  Come  and  look  in  this  still 
water,  and  see  how  pretty  you  are  ! " 

The  Moon,  you  must  know,  has  always  been  just 
as  fond  of  looking  at  herself  in  the  water  as  she  is  to 
this  very  day,  and  forgetting  Nah-chu-ru-chu's  warn- 
ing, she  came  to  the  brink,  and  looked  down  upon 
her  fair  reflection.  But  at  that  very  moment,  the  two 
witch-sisters  pushed  her  head  foremost  into  the/AStf, 
and  drowned  her;  and  then  filled  the  well  with  earth, 
and  went  away  as  happy  as  wicked  hearts  can  be. 

Nah-chu-ru-chu  began  to  look  oftener  from  his 
loom  to  the  door  as  the  sun  crept  along  the  adobe 
floor,  closer  and  closer  to  his  seat ;  and  when  the 
shadows  were  very  long,  he  sprang  suddenly  to  his 
feet,  and  walked  to  the  house  of  the  Yellow-Corn- 
Maidens  with  long,  strong  strides. 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON      63 

"  Ee-eh-ckoo-ri-ctidhm-nin"  he  said,  very  sternly, 
"where  is  my  little  wife  ?  " 

"Why,  is  n't  she  at  home?"  asked  the  wicked 
sisters  as  if  in  great  surprise.  "  She  got  enough 
amole  long  before  we  did,  and  started  home  with  it. 
We  supposed  she  had  come  long  ago." 

"Ah,"  groaned  Nah-chu-ru-chu  within  himself; 
"  it  is  as  I  thought  —  they  have  done  her  ill."  But 
without  a  word  to  them  he  turned  on  his  heel  and 
went  away. 

From  that  hour  all  went  ill  with  Isleta,  for  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu  held  the  well-being  of  all  his  people, 
even  unto  life  and  death.  Paying  no  attention  to 
what  was  going  on  about  him,  he  sat  motionless 
upon  the  very  crosspiece  of  the  estufa  ladder  —  the 
highest  point  in  all  the  town  —  with  his  head 
bowed  upon  his  hands.  There  he  sat  for  days, 
never  speaking,  never  moving.  The  children  that 
played  along  the  streets  looked  up  to  the  motion- 
less figure,  and  ceased  their  boisterous  play.  The 
old  men  shook  their  heads  gravely,  and  muttered  : 
"We  are  in  evil  times,  for  Nah-chu-ru-chu  is  mourn- 
ing, and  will  not  be  comforted.  And  there  is  no  more 
rain,  so  that  our  crops  are  drying  in  the  fields. 
What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

At  last  all  the  councilors  met  together,  and  de- 
cided that  there  must  be  another  effort  made  to 
find  the  lost  wife.  It  was  true  that  the  great  Nah- 
chu-ru-chu  had  searched  for  her  in  vain,  and  the 
people  had  helped  him  ;  but  perhaps  some  one  else 
might  be  more  fortunate.  So  they  took  some  of 
the  sacred  smoking-weed  wrapped  in  a  corn-husk 
and  went  to  Shee-wid-deh,  who  has  the  sharpest 


64  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

eyes  in  all  the  world.  Giving  him  the  sacred  gift 
they  said : 

"  Eagle-friend,  we  see  Nah-chu-ru-chu  in  great 
trouble,  tor  he  has  lost  his  Moon-wife.  Come, 
search  for  her,  we  pray  you,  if  she  be  alive  or 
dead." 

So  the  Eagle  took  the  offering,  and  smoked  the 
smoke-prayer;  and  then  he  went  winging  upward 
into  the  very  sky.  Higher  and  higher  he  rose,  in 
great  upward  circles,  while  his  keen  eyes  noted 
every  stick,  and  stone,  and  animal  on  the  face  of  all 
the  world.  But  with  all  his  eyes,  he  could  see  noth- 
ing of  the  lost  wife  ;  and  at  last  he  came  back  sadly, 
and  said : 

"  People-friends,  I  went  up  to  where  I  could  see 
the  whole  world,  but  I  could  not  find  her." 

Then  the  people  went  with  an  offering  to  the 
Coyote,  whose  nose  is  sharpest  in  all  the  world ; 
and  besought  him  to  try  to  find  the  Moon.  The 
Coyote  smoked  the  smoke-prayer,  and  started  off 
with  his  nose  to  the  ground,  trying  to  find  her 
tracks.  He  trotted  all  over  the  earth  ;  but  at  last 
he  too  came  back  without  finding  what  he  sought. 

Then  the  troubled  people  got  the  Badger  to 
search,  for  he  is  best  of  all  the  beasts  at  digging — 
and  he  it  was  whom  the  Trues  employed  to  dig  the 
caves  in  which  the  people  first  dwelt  when  they 
came  to  this  world.  The  Badger  trotted  and 
pawed,  and  dug  everywhere,  but  he  could  not  find 
the  Moon  ;  and  he  came  home  very  sad. 

Then  they  asked  the  Osprey,  who  can  see  far- 
thest under  water,  and  he  sailed  high  above  all  the 
lakes  and  rivers  in  the  world,  till  he  could  count  the 


THE    GRIEF    OF    NAH-CHU-RIJ-CHU. 


UNIVERSITY 
"^CALIFOKSi> 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON     67 

pebbles  and  the  fish  in  them,  but  he  too  failed  to 
discover  the  lost  Moon. 

By  now  the  crops  were  dead  and  sere  in  the 
fields,  and  thirsty  animals  walked  crying  along  the 
dry  river.  Scarcely  could  the  people  themselves  dig 
deep  enough  to  find  so  much  water  as  would  keep 
them  alive.  They  were  at  a  loss  which  way  to  turn  ; 
but  at  last  they  thought :  We  will  go  to  P'ah-ku- 
ee-teh-ay-deh,1  who  can  find  the  dead  —  for  surely 
she  is  dead,  or  the  others  would  have  found  her. 

So  they  went  to  him  and  besought  him.  The 
Turkey-buzzard  wept  when  he  saw  Nah-chu-ru- 
chu  still  sitting  there  upon  the  ladder,  and  said: 
"  Truly  it  is  sad  for  our  great  friend;  but  for  me,  I 
am  afraid  to  go,  since  they  who  are  more  mighty 
than  I  have  already  failed;  but  I  will  try."  And 
spreading  his  broad  wings  he  went  climbing  up  the 
spiral  ladder  of  the  sky.  Higher  he  wheeled,  and 
higher,  till  at  last  not  even  the  Eagle  could  see 
him.  Up  and  up,  till  the  hot  sun  began  to  singe 
his  head,  and  not  even  the  Eagle  had  ever  been  so 
high.  He  cried  with  pain,  but  still  he  kept  mount- 
ing—  until  he  was  so  close  to  the  sun  that  all  the 
feathers  were  burned  from  his  head  and  neck.  But 
he  could  see  nothing;  and  at  last,  frantic  with 
the  burning,  he  came  wheeling  downward.  When 
he  got  back  to  the  estufa  where  all  the  people  were 
waiting,  they  saw  that  his  head  and  neck  had  been 
burnt  bare  of  feathers  —  and  from  that  day  to  this 
the  feathers  would  never  grow  out  again. 

"And  did  you  see  nothing  ?"  they  all  asked, 
when  they  had  bathed  his  burns. 

1  Turkey-buzzard;  literally,  "water-goose-grandfather." 


68  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

"Nothing,"  he  answered,  "  except  that  when  I 
was  half-way  down  I  saw  in  the  middle  of  yon  cot- 
tonwood  forest  a  little  mound  covered  with  all  the 
beautiful  flowers  in  the  world." 

"Oh!"  cried  Nah-chu-ru-chu,  speaking  for  the 
first  time.  "Go,  friend,  and  bring  me  one  flower 
from  the  very  middle  of  that  mound." 

Off  flew  the  Buzzard,  and  in  a  few  minutes  re- 
turned with  a  little  white  flower.  Nah-chu-ru-chu 
took  it,  and  descending  from  the  ladder  in  silence, 
walked  to  his  house,  while  all  the  wondering  people 
followed. 

When  Nah-chu-ru-chu  came  inside  his  home  once 
more,  he  took  a  new  nianta  and  spread  it  in  the 
middle  of  the  Eoom ;  and  laying  the  wee  white 
flower  tenderly  in  its  center,  he  put  another  new 
nianta  above  it.  Then,  dressing  himself  in  the 
splendid  buckskin  suit  the  lost  wife  had  made  him, 
and  taking  in  his  right  hand  the  sacred  guaje  (rat- 
tle), he  seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  manias 
and  sang : 

"  Shu-nah,  shu-nah  ! 
A  i-ay-ay,  ai-ay-ay,  ai-ay-ay  /  " 

(Seeking  her,  seeking  her! 
There-away,  there-away  ! ) 

When  he  had  finished  the  song,  all  could  see 
that  the  flower  had  begun  to  grow,  so  that  it  lifted 
the  upper  manta  a  little.  Again  he  sang,  shaking 
his  gourd;  and  still  the  flower  kept  growing. 
Again  and  again  he  sang ;  and  when  he  had  fin- 
ished for  the  fourth  time,  it  was  plain  to  all  that  a 
human  form  lay  between  the  two  manias.  And 


THE  MAN  WHO  MARRIED  THE  MOON      69 

when  he  sang  his  song  the  fifth  time,  the  form  sat 
up  and  moved.  Tenderly  he  lifted  away  the  over- 
cloth,  and  there  sat  his  sweet  Moon-wife,  fairer  than 
ever,  and  alive  as  before !  l 

For  four  days  the  people  danced  and  sang  in  the 
public  square.  Nah-chu-ru-chu  was  happy  again  ; 
and  now  the  rain  began  to  fall.  The  choked  earth 
drank  and  was  glad  and  green,  and  the  dead  crops 
came  to  life. 

When  his  wife  told  him  how  the  witch-sisters 
had  done,  he  was  very  angry ;  and  that  very  day 
he  made  a  beautiful  hoop  to  play  the  mah-khur. 
He  painted  it,  and  put  strings  across  it,  decorated 
with  beaded  buckskin. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "the  wicked  Yellow-Corn- 
Maidens  will  come  to  congratulate  you,  and  will 
pretend  not  to  know  where  you  were.  You  must 
not  speak  of  that,  but  invite  them  to  go  out  and 
play  a  game  with  you." 

In  a  day  or  two  the  witch-sisters  did  come,  with 
deceitful  words ;  and  the  Moon  invited  them  to  go 
out  and  play  a  game.  They  went  up  to  the  edge 
of  the  llano,  and  there  she  let  them  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  pretty  hoop. 

"Oh,  give  us  that,  Moon-friend,"  they  teased. 
But  she  refused.  At  last,  however,  she  said : 

"  Well,  we  will  play  the  hoop-game.  I  will  stand 
here,  and  you  there ;  and  if,  when  I  roll  it  to  you, 
you  catch  it  before  it  falls  upon  its  side,  you  may 
have  it." 


1  Nah-chu-ru-chu's  incantation  followed  the  exact  form  still  used  by  the 
Indian  conjurors  of  the  Southwest  in  their  wonderful  trick  of  making  corn 
grow  and  mature  from  the  kernel  in  one  clay. 


70  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

So  the  witch-sisters  stood  a  little  way  down  the 
hill,  and  she  rolled  the  bright  hoop.  As  it  came 
trundling  to  them,  both  grasped  it  at  the  same  in- 
stant; and  lo  !  instead  of  the  Yellow- Corn- Maid- 
ens, there  were  two  great  snakes,  with  tears  rolling 
down  ugly  faces.  The  Moon  came  and  put  upon 
their  heads  a  little  of  the  pollen  of  the  corn-blossom 
(still  used  by  Pueblo  snake-charmers)  to  tame  them, 
and  a  pinch  of  the  sacred  meal  for  their  food. 

"Now,"  said  she,  "you  have  the  reward  of  treach- 
erous friends.  Here  shall  be  your  home  among 
these  rocks  and  cliffs  forever,  but  you  must  never 
be  found  upon  the  prairie ;  and  you  must  never 
bite  a  person.  Remember  you  are  women,  and 
must  be  gentle." 

And  then  the  Moon  went  home  to  her  husband, 
and  they  were  very  happy  together.  As  for  the 
sister  snakes,  they  still  dwell  where  she  bade  them, 
and  never  venture  away ;  though  sometimes  the 
people  bring  them  to  their  houses  to  catch  the 
mice,  for  these  snakes  never  hurt  a  person. 


IX 

THE    MOTHER    MOON 

A  ND  do  you  know  why  it  is  that  the  Moon  has 
XJL  but  one  eye  ?  It  is  a  short  story,  but  one  of 
the  most  poetic  and  beautiful  in  all  the  pretty  folk- 
lore of  the  Pueblos. 

P'ah-hlee-oh,  the  Moon- Maiden,  was  the  Tee- 
wahn  Eve1 — the  first  and  loveliest  woman  in  all 
the  world.  She  had  neither  father  nor  mother, 
sister  nor  brother ;  and  in  her  fair  form  were  the 
seeds  of  all  humanity — of  all  life  and  love  and 
goodness.  The  Trues,  who  are  the  unseen  spirits 
that  are  above  all,  made  T'hoor-id-deh,  the  Sun, 
who  was  to  be  father  of  all  things ;  and  because  he 
was  alone,  they  made  for  him  a  companion,  the  first 
to  be  of  maids,  the  first  to  be  a  wife.  From  them 
began  the  world  and  all  that  is  in  it ;  and  all  their 
children  were  strong  and  good.  Very  happy  were 
the  Father-all  and  the  Mother-all,  as  they  watched 
their  happy  brood.  He  guarded  them  by  day  and 

1  She  is  honored  in  almost  every  detail  of  the  Pueblo  ceremonials.  The 
most  important  charm  or  implement  of  the  medicine-men,  the  holiest  fetish 
of  all,  is  typical  of  her.  It  is  called  Mah-pah-roo,  the  Mother,  and  is  the 
most  beautiful  article  a  Pueblo  ever  fashioned.  A  flawless  ear  of  pure  white 
corn  (a  type  of  fertility  or  motherhood)  is  tricked  out  with  a  downy  mass  of 
snow-white  feathers,  and  hung  with  ornaments  of  silver,  coral,  and  the 
precious  turquoise. 


72  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

she  by  night — only  there  was  no  night,  for  then 
the  Moon  had  two  eyes,  and  saw  as  clearly  as  the 
Sun,  and  with  glance  as  bright.  It  was  all  as  one 
long  day  of  golden  light.  The  birds  flew  always, 
the  flowers  never  shut,  the  young  people  danced 
and  sang,  and  none  knew  how  to  rest. 

But  at  last  the  Trues  thought  better.  For  the 
endless  light  grew  heavy  to  the  world's  young  eyes 
that  knew  no  tender  lids  of  night.  And  the  Trues 
said: 

"  It  is  not  well,  for  so  there  is  no  sleep,  and  the 
world  is  very  tired.  We  must  not  keep  the  Sun 
and  Moon  seeing  alike.  Let  us  put  out  one  of  his 
eyes,  that  there  may  be  darkness  for  half  the  time, 
and  then  his  children  can  rest."  And  they  called 
T'hoor-id-deh  and  P'ah-hlee-oh  before  them  to  say 
what  must  be  done. 

But  when  she  heard  that,  the  Moon- Mother 
wept  for  her  strong  and  handsome  husband,  and 
cried : 

"  No  !  No  !  Take  my  eyes,  for  my  children, 
but  do  not  blind  the  Sun  !  He  is  the  father,  the 
provider  —  and  how  shall  he  watch  against  harm, 
or  how  find  us  game  without  his  bright  eyes? 
Blind  me,  and  keep  him  all-seeing." 

And  the  Trues  said :  "  It  is  well,  daughter." 
And  so  they  took  away  one  of  her  eyes,  so  that 
she  could  never  see  again  so  well.  Then  night 
came  upon  the  tired  earth,  and  the  flowers  and 
birds  and  people  slept  their  first  sleep,  and  it  was 
very  good.  But  she  who  first  had  the  love  of 
children,  and  paid  for  them  with  pain  as  mother's 
pay,  she  did  not  grow  ugly  by  her  sacrifice.  Nay, 


THE   MOTHER   MOON  73 

she  is  lovelier  than  ever,  and  we  all  love  her  to 
this  day.  For  the  Trues  are  good  to  her,  and 
gave  her  in  place  of  the  bloom  of  girlhood  the 
beauty  that  is  only  in  the  faces  of  mothers. 

So  mother-pale  above  us 

She  bends,  her  watch  to  keep, 
Who  of  her  sight  dear-bought  the  night 

To  give  her  children  sleep. 


X 

THE    MAKER    OF   THE    THUNDER-KNIVES 

YOU  have  perhaps  seen  the  beautiful  arrow- 
heads of  moss-agate,  petrified  wood,  or  vol- 
canic glass  which  were  used,  until  very  recently, 
by  the  Indians  of  the  Southwest,  and  are  still  trea- 
sured by  them.  At  least'you  aYe  familiar  with  the 
commoner  flint  ones  left  by  the  aboriginal  tribes 
farther  eastward.  And  seeing  them,  you  must 
have  wondered  how  they  were  ever  made  from 
such  fearfully  stubborn  stone  —  always  the  very 
hardest  that  was  accessible  to  the  maker.  I  have 
tried  for  six  hours,  with  the  finest  drills,  to  make  a 
little  hole  in  the  thinnest  part  of  an  agate  arrow- 
head, to  put  it  on  a  charm-ring;  but  when  the  drill 
and  I  were  completely  worn  out,  there  was  not  so 
much  as  a  mark  on  the  arrow-head  to  show  what 
we  had  been  doing.  If  you  will  take  one  to  your 
jeweler,  he  will  have  as  poor  luck. 

But  the  making  of  the  arrow-heads  is  really  a 
very  simple  matter;  and  I  have  fashioned  many 
very  fair  ones.  The  only  implements  are  part  of 
a  peculiarly  shaped  bone  —  preferably  from  the 
thigh  of  the  elk  —  and  a  stick  about  the  size  of  a 
lead-pencil,  but  of  double  the  diameter.  The  maker 


THE    MAKER   OF    THE   THUNDER-KNIVES  75 

Q{  puntas  takes  the  bone  in  his  left  hand;  in  his 
right  is  the  stick,  against  which  the  selected  splin- 
ter of  stone  is  firmly  pressed  by  the  thumb.  With 
a  firm,  steady  pressure  against  the  sharp  edge  of 
the  bone,  a  tiny  flake  is  nicked  from  the  splinter. 
Then  the  splinter  is  turned,  and  a  nick  is  similarly 
made  on  the  other  side,  just  a  little  ahead  of  the 
first;  and  so  on.  It  is  by  this  alternate  nicking 
from  opposite  sides  that  the  stone-splinter  grows 
less  by  tiny  flakes,  and  is  shaped  by  degrees  to  a 
perfect  arrow-head.  If  you  will  notice  the  edge  of 
an  arrow-head,  you  will  see  plainly  that  the  work 
was  done  in  this  way,  for  the  edge  is  not  a  straight 
but  a  wavy  line  —  sometimes  even  a  zigzag,  recall- 
ing the  manner  in  which  saw-teeth  are  "set." 

Every  Indian,  and  every  one  who  has  studied 
the  Indian,  knows  this.  But  if  I  ask  one  of  my 
brown  old  compadres  here,  where  he  got  the 
arrow-head  which  he  wears  as  a  charm  about  his 
wrinkled  neck,  he  will  not  tell  me  any  such  story 
as  that.  No,  indeed  ! 

Ouah-le-kee-rai-deh,  the  Horned  Toad,  gave  it 
to  him.  So?  Oh,  yes!  He  talked  so  nicely  to  a 
Horned  Toad  on  the  mesa1  the  other  day,  that  the 
little  creature  put  a  punta  where  he  could  find  it 
the  next  time  he  went  thither. 

Whenever  a  Pueblo  sees  a  Quah-le-kee-rai-deh, 
he  jumps  from  his  horse  or  his  big  farm-wagon, 
and  makes  every  effort  to  capture  the  animalito  be- 
fore it  can  reach  a  hole.  If  successful,  he  pulls  from 
his  blanket  or  his  legging-garters  a  red  thread — 
no  other  color  will  do — and  ties  it  necklace-fashion 

1  Table-land, 


76  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

around  the  neck  of  his  little  prisoner.  Then  he 
invokes  all  sorts  of  blessings  on  the  Horned  Toad, 
assures  it  of  his  sincere  respect  and  friendship, 
begs  it  to  remember  him  with  a  punta,  and  lets  it 
go.  Next  time  he  goes  to  the  mesa,  he  fully  ex- 
pects to  find  an  arrow-head,  and  generally  does 
find  one — doubtless  because  he  then  searches 
more  carefully  on  that  broad  reach  where  so  many 
arrow-heads  have  been  lost  in  ancient  wars  and 
hunts.  Finding  one,  he  prays  to  the  Sun-Father 
and  the  Moon -Mother  and  all  his  other  deities, 
and  returns  profound  thanks  to  the  Horned  Toad. 
Some  finders  put  the  arrow-head  in  the  pouch 
which  serves  Indians  for  a  pocket.1  Some  wear 
it  as  an  amulet  on  the  necklace.  In  either  case, 
the  belief  is  that  no  evil  spirit  can  approach  the 
wearer  while  he  has  that  charm  about  him.  In 
fact,  it  is  a  sovereign  spell  against  witches. 

The  common  belief  of  the  Pueblos  is  that  the 
Horned  Toad  makes  these  arrow-heads  only  during 
a  storm,  and  deposits  them  at  the  very  instant 
when  it  thunders.  For  this  reason  an  arrow-head 
is  always  called  K6h-un-shee-eh,  or  thunder-knife. 
The  strange  appearance  of  this  quaint,  spiked  lizard 
—  which  is  really  not  a  "  hop-toad  "  at  all — doubt- 
less suggested  the  notion  ;  for  his  whole  back  is 
covered  with  peculiar  points  which  have  very  much 
the  shape  and  color  of  Indian  arrow-heads. 

Quah-le-kee-rai-deh  is  a  very  important  per- 
sonage in  the  Pueblo  folk-lore.  He  not  only  is  the 
inventor  and  patentee  of  the  arrow-head  and  the 

1  The  *'  left-hand-brig,"  shur-tai-moo,  because  it  always  hangs  from  the 
risjht  shoulder  and  under  the  left  arm. 


THE    MAKER    OF    THE   THUNDER-KNIVES  77 

scalping-knife/but  he  also  invented  irrigation,  and 
taught  it  to  man ;  and  is  a  general  benefactor  of 
our  race. 

There  is  one  very  sacred  folk-story  which  tells 
why  boys  must  never  smoke  until  they  have 
proved  their  manhood.  Pueblo  etiquette  is  very 
strict  on  all  such  points.2 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  in  Isleta  two  boys 
who  were  cousins.  One  day  their  grandfather, 
who  was  a  True  Believer  (in  all  the  ancient  rites), 
caught  them  in  a  corner  smoking  the  weer. 
Greatly  shocked,  he  said  to  them : 

"  Sons,  I  see  you  want  to  be  men ;  but  you 
must  prove  yourselves  before  you  are  thought  to 
be.  Know,  then,  that  nobody  is  born  with  the 
freedom  of  the  smoke,  but  every  one  must  earn  it. 
So  go  now,  each  of  you,  and  bring  me  Quee-hla- 
ku-ee,  the  skin  of  the  oak." 

Now,  in  the  talk  of  men,  Quee-hla-ku-ee  is  an- 
other thing;  but  the  boys  did  not  know.  They 
got  their  mothers  to  give  them  some  tortillas,3  and 
with  this  lunch  they  started  for  the  Bosque  (a 
io,ooo-foot  peak  twenty  miles  east  of  Isleta). 
Reaching  the  mountain,  they  went  to  every  kind 
of  tree  and  cut  a  little  piece  of  its  bark  —  for  they 
were  not  sure  which  was  the  oak.  Then  they 
came  home,  very  tired,  and  carried  the  bark  to 
their  grandfather.  But  when  he  had  looked  at 
it  all  he  said  : 

1  Which  were  formerly  about  the  same  thing  —  a  large  and  sharp-edged 
arrow-head  or  similar  stone  being  the  only  knife  of  the  Pueblos  in  pre- 
historic times. 

-  See  my"  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country  "  (The  Century  Co.),  chap,  xviii. 

3  A  cake  of  unleavened  batter  cooked  on  a  hot  stone.  They  look  some- 
thing like  a  huge  flapjack,  but  are  very  tough  and  keep  a  long  time. 


78  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

"  Young  men,  you  have  not  yet  proved  your- 
selves. So  now  it  is  for  you  to  go  again  and  -look 
for  the  0#/£-bark." 

At  this  their  hearts  were  heavy,  but  they  took 
tortillas  and  started  again.  On  the  way  they  met 
an  old  Horned  Toad,  who  stopped  them  and  said: 

"  Young-men-friends,  I  know  what  trouble  you 
are  in.  Your  tata  has  sent  you  for  the  skin  of  the 
oak,  but  you  do  not  know  the  oak  he  means.  But 
I  will  be  the  one  to  help  you.  Take  these,"  and  he 
gave  them  two  large  thunder -knives,  "and  with 
these  in  hand  go  up  that  canon  yonder.  In  a  little 
way  you  will  see  a  great  many  of  your  enemies,  the 
Navajos,  camping.  On  the  first  hill  from  which 
you  see  their  fire,  there  stop.  In  time,  while  you 
wait  there,  you  will  hear  a  Coyote  howling  across 
the  canon.  Then  is  the  time  to  give  your  enemy- 
yell  [war-whoop]  and  attack  them." 

The  boys  thanked  the  Horned  Toad  and  went. 
Presently  they  saw  the  camp-fire  of  the  Navajos, 
and  waiting  till  the  Coyote  called  they  gave  the 
enemy-yell  and  then  attacked.  They  had  no  weap- 
ons except  their  thunder-knives,  but  with  these  they 
killed  several  Navajos,  and  the  others  ran  away. 
In  the  dark  and  their  hurry  they  made  a  mistake 
and  scalped  a  woman  (which  was  never  customary 
with  the  Pueblos). 

Taking  their  scalps,  they  hurried  home  to  their 
grandfather,  and  when  he  saw  that  they  had 
brought  the  real  oak-skin  (which  is  an  Indian 
euphemy  for  "  scalp"),  he  led  them  proudly  to  the 
Cacique,  and  the  Cacique  ordered  the  T'u-a-fu-ar 
(scalp-dance).  After  the  inside  days,  when  the 


THE   MAKER   OF    THE   THUNDER-KNIVES  79 

takers  of  scalps  must  stay  in  the  estufay  was  the 
dance.  And  when  it  came  to  the  round  dance  at 
night  the  two  boys  were  dancing  side  by  side. 

Then  a  young  woman  who  was  a  stanger  came 
and  pushed  them  apart  and  danced  between  them. 
She  was  very  handsome,  and  both  fell  in  love  with 
her.  But  as  soon  as  their  hearts  thought  of  love, 
a  skeleton  was  between  them  in  place  of  the  girl 
—  for  they  who  go  to  war  or  take  a  scalp  have  no 
right  to  think  of  love. 

They  were  very  frightened,  but  kept  dancing  un- 
til they  were  too  tired,  and  then  went  to  the  singers 
inside  the  circle  to  escape.  But  the  skeleton  fol- 
lowed them  and  stood  beside  them,  and  they  could 
not  hide  from  it. 

At  last  they  began  to  run  away,  and  went  to  the 
east.  Many  moons  they  kept  running,  but  the 
skeleton  was  always  at  their  heels.  At  last  they 
came  to  the  Sunrise  Lake,  wherein  dwell  the  Trues 
of  the  East. 

The  guards  let  them  in,  and  they  told  the  Trues 
all  that  had  happened,  and  the  skeleton  stood  be- 
side them.  The  Trues  said:  "  Young  men,  if  you 
are  men,  sit  down  and  we  will  protect  you." 

But  when  the  boys  looked  again  at  the  skeleton 
they  could  not  stop,  but  ran  away  again.  Many 
moons  they  ran  north  till  they  came  to  where  the 
Trues  of  the  North  dwell  in  the  Black  Lake  of 
Tears. 

The  Trues  of  the  North  promised  to  defend 
them,  but  again  the  skeleton  came  and  scared 
them  away;  and  they  ran  for  many  moons  until 
they  came  to  the  Trues  of  the  West,  who  dwell 


8o  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

in  T'hoor-kim-p'ah-whee-ay,  the  Yellow  Lake 
Where  the  Sun  Sets.  And  there  the  same  things 
happened;  and  they  ran  away  again  to  the  south, 
till  they  found  the  Trues  of  the  South  in  P'ah-cheer- 
p'ah-whee-ay,  the  Lake  of  Smooth  Pebbles. 

But  there  again  it  was  the  same,  and  again  they 
ran  many  moons  till  they  came  to  the  Trues  of  the 
Center,  who  live  here  in  Isleta.  And  here  the 
skeleton  said  to  them : 

"Why  do  you  run  from  me  now?  For  when 
you  were  dancing  you  looked  at  me  and  loved  me, 
but  now  you  run  away." 

But  they  could  not  answer  her,  and  ran  into  the 
room  of  the  Trues  of  the  Center,  and  told  their 
story.  Then  the  Trues  gave  power  to  the  Cum- 
pa-huit-la-wid-deh1  to  see  the  skeleton, — which 
no  one  else  in  the  world  could  see,  except  the 
Trues  and  the  two  young  men, — and  said  to  him  : 

"  Shoot  this  person  who  follows  these  two." 

So  the  Cum-pa-huit-la-wid-deh  shot  the  skele- 
ton through  with  an  arrow  from  the  left  side  to  the 
right  side,2  and  took  the  scalp. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  skeleton,  and  the  young 
men  were  free.  And  when  the  Trues  had  given 
them  counsel,  they  came  to  their  people,  and  told 
the  Cacique  all.  He  made  a  new  scalp-dance,  be- 
cause they  had  not  stayed  to  finish  the  first  one. 

And  when  the  dance  was  done,  they  told  all  the 
people  what  had  happened.  Then  the  principals 
had  a  meeting  and  made  a  rule  which  is  to  this 

1  Guard  at  the  door  of  the  gods. 

2  The  only  official  method  of  killing  a  witch,  which  is  one  of  the  chief 
duties  of  the  Cum-pa-huit-la-wen. 


THE  MAKER  OF  THE  THUNDER-KNIVES     81 

day,  that  in  the  twelve  days  of  the  scalp1  no  war- 
rior shall  think  thoughts  of  love. 

For  it  was  because  they  had  love-thoughts  of 
the  Navajo  girl  that  her  skeleton  haunted  them. 
And  at  the  same  time  it  was  made  the  law,  which 
still  is,  that  no  one  shall  smoke  till  he  has  taken  a 
scalp  to  prove  himself  a  man. 

For  if  the  boys  had  not  been  smoking  when 
they  had  not  freedom  to,  their  grandfather  would 
not  have  sent  them,  and  all  that  trouble  would  not 
have  come.  And  that  is  why. 

1  The  period    of  fasting  and   purification  before  and  during  the  scalp- 
dance. 


XI 

THE    STONE-MOVING  SONG 

THE  Horned  Toad  is  also  a  famous  musician — 
a  sort  of  .Pueblo  Orpheus,  whose  song  charms 
the  very  stones  and  trees.     A  short  folk-story  of 
Isleta  refers  to  this. 

One  day  Quah-le-kee-raf-deh  was  working  in 
his  field.  There  were  many  very  large  rocks, 
and  to  move  them  he  sang  a  strong  song  as  he 
pulled : 

Yah  eh-ah,  heh-ah  hdy-na, 
Yah,  eh-ah,  Jieh-ah  hay-na, 
Wha-nai-kee-ay  hee-e-wid-deh 
Ah-kwe-ee-hee  cii-yen-cheh, 
Yahb-Kydy-queer  ah-choo-hee. 

When  he  sang  this  and  touched  the  heaviest  stone, 

it  rose  up  from  the  ground,  and  went  over  his  head 

and  fell  far  behind  him. 

While  he  worked  so,  Too-whay-deh  came  along  ; 

and  seeing  what  happened,  he  wished  to  meddle, 

as  his  way  is.     So  he  said : 

"  Friend  Quah-le-kee-rai-deh,  let  me  do  it." 
"No,  friend,"  said   the   Horned  Toad.      "It  is 

better  for  every  one  to  do  what  he  knows,  and  not 

to  put  himself  in  the  work  of  others." 

82 


THE    STONE-MOVING    SONG  83 

"  Do  not  think  so,"  answered  the  Coyote. 
"  For  I  can  do  this  also.  It  is  very  easy." 

"It  is  well,  then  —  but  see  that  you  are  not 
afraid;  for  so  it  will  be  bad." 

Too-whay-deh  laid  off  his  blanket  and  took 
hold  of  the  largest  rock  there  was,  and  sang 
the  song.  When  he  sang,  the  rock  rose  up  in 
the  air  to  go  over  his  head ;  but  he,  being 
scared,  ducked  his  head.  Then  at  once  the 
rock  fell  on  him,  and  he  had  no  bones  left. 
Then  the  Horned  Toad  laughed,  and  gave  the 
enemy-yell  (war-whoop),  saying:  "We  do  this 
to  one  another !  " 


XII 

THE    COYOTE    AND    THE    THUNDER-KNIFE 

ANOTHER  Isleta  myth  tells  of  an  equally  sad 
misadventure  of  the  Coyote. 

Once  upon  a  time  an  old  Coyote-father  took 
a  walk  away  from  home  ;  for  in  that  season  of 
the  year  his  babies  were  so  peevish  they  would 
not  let  him  sleep.  It  happened  that  a  Locust 
was  making  pottery,  under  a  tree ;  and  every 
time  she  moved  the  molding-spoon  around  the 
soft  clay  jar,  she  sang  a  song.  The  Coyote, 
coming  near  and  hearing,  thought:  "  Now  that 
is  the  very  song  I  need  to  put  my  6o-un  to 
sleep."  And  following  the  sound  he  came  to 
the  tree,  and  found  Cheech-wee-deh  at  work. 
But  she  had  stopped  singing. 

"  Locust-friend,"  said  he,  "come  teach  me  that 
song,  so  that  I  can  soothe  my  children  to  sleep." 
But  the  Locust  did  not  move  to  answer ;  and 
he  repeated : 

"  Locust-friend,  come  teach  me  that  song." 

Still  she  did  not  answer,  and  the  Coyote, 
losing  his  patience,  said  : 

"  Locust,  if  you  don't  teach  me  that  song,  I 
will  eat  you  up  ! " 


THE   COYOTE   AND   THE   THUNDER-KNIFE          85 

At  that,  the  Locust  showed  him  the  song, 
and  he  sang  with  her  until  he  knew  how. 

''Now  I  know  it,  thank  you,"  he  said.  ''So  I 
will  go  home  and  sing  it  to  my  children,  and 
they  will  sleep." 

So  he  went.  But  as  he  came  to  a  pool,  half- 
way home,  a  flock  of  Afraids-of-the-Water  '  flew 
up  at  his  very  nose,  and  drove  out  his  memory. 
He  went  looking  around,  turning  over  the  stones 
and  peeping  in  the  grass  ;  but  he  could  not  find 
the  song  anywhere.  So  he  started  back  at  last 
to  get  the  Locust  to  teach  him  again. 

But  while  he  was  yet  far,  the  Locust  saw  him, 
so  she  shed  her  skin,  leaving  a  dry  husk,  as  snakes 
do,  and  filled  it  with  sand.  Then  she  made  it  to  sit 
up,  and  put  the  molding-spoon  in  its  hands,  and 
the  clay  jars  in  front  of  it ;  and  she  herself  flew  up 
into  the  tree. 

Coming,  the  Coyote  said:  "Friend  Locust,  show 
that  song  again ;  for  I  got  scared,  and  the  song 
was  driven  out  of  me."  But  there  was  no  answer. 

"Hear,  Locust!  I  will  ask  just  once  more;  and  if 
you  do  not  show  me  the  song,  I  '11  swallow  you  !  " 

Still  she  did  not  reply ;  and  the  Coyote,  being 
angry,  swallowed  the  stuffed  skin,  sand,  spoon,  and 
all,  and  started  homeward,  saying:  "Now  I  think 
I  have  that  song  in  me  !  " 

But  when  he  was  half-way  home  he  stopped  and 
struck  himself,  and  said :  "What  a  fool,  truly  !  For 
now  I  am  going  home  without  a  song.  But  if  I 
had  left  the  Locust  alive,  and  bothered  her  long 
enough,  she  would  have  shown  me.  I  think  now 

1  The  ironical  Tee-wahn  name  for  ducks. 
8 


86  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

I  will  take  her  out,  to  see  if  she  will  not  sing  for 
me." 

So  he  ran  all  around,  hunting  for  a  black  thun- 
der-knife,1 and  singing : 

Where  can  I  find  She"e-eh-f6on  ? 
Where  can  I  find  Shee-eh-foon  ? 

At  last  he  found  a  large  piece  of  the  black-rock, 
and  broke  it  until  he  got  a  knife.  He  made  a  mark 
on  his  breast  with  his  finger,  saying :  "  Here  I  will 
cut,  and  take  her  out." 

Then  he  cut.  "  Mercy  !  "  said  he,  "  but  it  bites  !  " 
He  cut  again,  harder.  "  Goodness !  but  how  it 
bites  !  "  he  cried,  very  loud.  And  cutting  a  third 
time,  he  fell  down  and  died.  So  he  did  not  learn 
the  song  of  the  pottery-making. 

The  Queres  Pueblos  have  exactly  the  same 
folk-story,  except  that  they  make  the  Horned 
Toad,  instead  of  the  Locust,  the  music-teacher.  In 
their  version,  the  Horned  Toad,  after  being  swal- 
lowed, kills  the  Coyote  by  lifting  its  spines.  Re- 
membering what  I  have  said  of  the  maker  of  the 
thunder-knives,  you  will  readily  see  the  analogy 
between  this  and  the  obsidian  splinter  of  the  Tee- 
wahn  story.  It  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  charac- 
teristic and  instructive  examples  of  the  manner  in 
which  a  folk-story  becomes  changed. 

1  One  of  obsidian,  or  volcanic  glass. 


XIII 

FANCY  I  must  have  been  dozing  after 
that  hard  ride ;  for  when  a  far-away, 
cracked  voice  that  could  be  none  other 
than  Grandfather  Ysidro's  said,  "Kah- 
whee-cd-me,  Lorenso-kai-deh  /  "  I  start- 
ed up  so  hastily  as  to  bump  my  head 
against  the  whitewashed  wall.  That 
may  seem  a  queer  sentence  to  rouse 
one  so  sharply;  and  especially  when 
you  know  what  it  means.  It  meant 
that  old  Ysidro1  had  just  finished  a 
story,  which  I  had  altogether  missed,  and  was  now 
calling  upon  the  old  man  next  him  to  tell  one,  by 
using  the  customary  Pueblo  saying  : 

11  There  is  a  tail  to  you,  Father  Lorenso  !  " 

1  Pronounced  Ee-see*-droh. 

87 


88  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

Kah-whee-cd-me  is  what  a  Tee-wahn  Indian  al- 
ways says  in  such  a  case,  instead  of  "  Now  you  tell 
a  story,  friend."  It  is  not  intended  as  an  impolite 
remark,  but  merely  refers  to  the  firm  belief  of  these 
quaint  people  that  if  one  were  to  act  like  a  stub- 
born donkey,  and  refuse  to  tell  a  story  when  called 
on,  a  donkey's  tail  would  grow  upon  him  ! 

With  such  a  fate  in  prospect,  you  may  be  sure 
that  the  roundabout  invitation  thus  conveyed  is 
never  declined. 

Grandfather  Lorenso  bows  his  head  gravely, 
but  seems  in  no  haste.  He  is  indeed  impressively 
deliberate  as  he  slowly  makes  a  cigarette  from  a 
bit  of  corn-husk  and  a  pinch  of  tobacco,  lights  it 
upon  a  coal  raked  out  of  the  fireplace  by  his 
withered  fingers,  blows  a  slow  puff  eastward,  then 
one  to  the  north,  another  to  the  west,  a  fourth  to 
the  south,  one  straight  above  his  head,  and  one 
down  toward  the  floor.  There  is  one  part  of  the 
United  States  where  the  compass  has  six  cardinal 
points  (those  I  have  just  named),  and  that  is  among 
these  Indians,  and  in  fact  all  the  others  of  the 
Southwest.  The  cigarette  plays  a  really  im- 
portant part  in  many  sacred  ceremonies  of  the 
Pueblos ;  for,  as  I  have  explained,  its  collective 
smoke  is  thought  to  be  what  makes  the  rain- 
clouds  and  brings  the  rain  ;  and  it  is  also  a  charm 
against  witches. 

Having  thus  propitiated  the  divinities  who  dwell 
in  the  directions  named,  Lorenso  looks  about  the 
circle  to  see  if  all  are  listening.  The  glance  satis- 
fies him  —  as  well  it  may.  There  are  no  heedless 
eyes  or  ears  in  the  audience,  of  which  I  am  the 


THE   MAGIC   HIDE-AND-SEEK  89 

only  white  member  —  and  a  very  lucky  one,  in 
that  I,  an  "  Americano,"  am  allowed  to  hear  these 
jealously  guarded  stories,  and  to  see  the  silent 
smoke-prayer  which  would  never  be  made  if  a 
stranger  were  present.  There  are  seven  aged 
men  here,  and  nine  bright-eyed  boys  —  all  Isle- 
tenos  (inhabitants  of  Isleta).  We  are  huddled 
around  the  fireplace  in  the  corner  of  the  big, 
pleasant  room,  against  whose  dark  rafters  and 
farther  white  walls  the  shadows  dance  and  waver. 
And  now,  taking  a  deep  puff,  Lorenso  exclaims : 
"Nak-f  hto-ait"  (In  a  house.)  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  story  ;  but  is  the  prologue  to  in- 
form the  hearers  that  the  story  is  about  to  open. 
"Ah-h-h!"  we  all  responded,  which  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  "We  are  listening — go  on";  and  Lorenso 
begins  his  story. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Tee-wahn  village 
on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  and  there  lived 
a  man  and  his  wife  who  thought  more  of  the  future 
of  their  children  than  did  the  others.  To  care 
better  for  the  children  they  moved  to  a  little  ranch 
some  distance  from  the  village,  and  there  taught 
their  two  little  sons  all  they  could.  Both  boys 
loved  the  outdoors,  and  games,  and  hunting;  and 
the  parents  were  well  pleased,  saying  to  each 
other : 

"  Perhaps  some  day  they  will  be  great  hunters  !  " 

By  the  time  the  elder  boy  was  twelve  and  the 

younger  ten,  they  both  were  very  expert  with  the 

little  bows  and  arrows  their  father  carefully  made 

them  ;  and  already  they  began  to  bring  home  many 


90  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

rabbits  when  they  were  allowed  to  go  a  little  way 
from  home.  .  There  was  only  one  command  their 
parents  gave  about  their  hunts ;  and  that  was  that 
they  must  never,  never  go  south.  They  could 
hunt  to  the  east,  north,  and  west,  but  not  south. 

Day  after  day  they  went  hunting,  and  more 
and  more  rabbits  theyjulled,  growing  always  more 
expert. 

One  day  when  they  had  hunted  eastward,  the 
elder  boy  said : 

"  Brother,  can  you  say  any  reason  why  we  must 
not  go  south  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing,"  replied  the  younger,  "  except 
what  I  overheard  our  parents  saying  one  day. 
They  spoke  of  an  old  woman  who  lives  in  the 
south  who  eats  children  ;  and  for  that  they  said 
they  would  never  let  us  go  south." 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  the  elder,  "  I  think  nothing  vithat. 
The  real  reason  must  be  that  they  wish  to  save  the 
rabbits  in  the  south,  and  are  afraid  we  would  kill 
them  all.  There  must  be  many  rabbits  in  that 
bosque  [forest]  away  down  there.  Let  's  go  and 
see  —  they  won't  know  ! " 

The  younger  boy  being  persuaded,  they  started 
off  together,  and  after  a  long  walk  came  to  the 
bosque.  It  was  full  of  rabbits,  and  they  were 
having  great  sport,  when  suddenly  they  heard  a 
motherly  voice  calling  through  the  woods.  In  a 
moment  they  saw  an  old  woman  coming  from  the 
south,  who  said  to  the  boys : 

"  Mah-koo-oon.  [grandchildren],  what  are  you 
doing  here,  where  no  one  ever  thinks  to  come  ?  " 

"  We  are  hunting,  Grandmother,"  they  replied. 
"  Our  parents  would  never  let  us  come  south ;  but 


THE   MAGIC    HIDE-AND-SEEK  91 

to-day  we^came  to  see  if  the  rabbits  are  more  nu- 
merous here  than  above." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  old  woman,  "  this  game  you  see 
here  is  nothing.  Come,  and  I  will  show  you  where 
there  is  much,  and  you  can  carry  very  large  rab- 
bits home  to  your  parents."  But  she  was  deceiv- 
ing them. 

She  had  a  big  basket  upon  her  back,  and  stoop- 
ing for  the  boys  to  get  into  it,  she  carried  them 
farther  and  farther  into  the  woods.  At  last  they 
came  to  an  old,  battered  house ;  and  setting  the 
basket  down,  she  said  : 

"  Now  we  have  come  all  the  way  here,  where  no 
one  ever  came  before,  and  there  is  no  way  out. 
You  can  find  no  trail,  and  you  will  have  to  stay 
here  contented,  or  I  will  eat  you  up  !  " 

The  boys  were  much  afraid,  and  said  they  would 
stay  and  be  contented.  But  the  old  woman  went 
into  the  house  and  told  her  husband — who  was  as 
wicked  as  she — to  get  wood  and  build  a  big  fire 
in  the  korno.1  All  day  long  the  fire  burned,  and 
the  oven  became  hotter  than  it  had  ever  been.  In 
the  evening  the  old  witch-woman  raked  out  the 
coals,  and  calling  the  boys  seized  them  and  forced 
them  into  the  fiery  oven. 

"Tahb-koon-nahm?"  (Is  that  so?)  we  all  ex- 
claimed—  that  being  the  proper  response  whenever 
the  narrator  pauses  a  moment. 

"That  is  so,"  replied  Lorenso,  and  went  on. 

Then  the  old  woman  put  a  flat  rock  over  the 
little  door  of  the  oven,  and  another  over  the  smoke- 

1  An  outdoor  bake-oven,  made  of  clay,  and  shaped  like  a  beehive. 


92  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

hole,  and  sealed  them  both  tight  with  clay.  All 
that  night  she  and  her  husband  were  chuckling  to 
think  what  a  nice  breakfast  they  would  have  — 
for  both  of  them  were  witch-people,  and  ate  all 
the  children  they  could  find. 

But  in  the  morning  when  she  unsealed  the  oven, 
there  were  the  two  boys,  laughing  and  playing  to- 
gether "unhurt —  for  the  Whay-nin1  had  come  to 
their  aid  and  protected  them  from  the  heat. 

Leaving  the  boys  to  crawl  out,  the  old  woman 
ran  to  the  house  and  scolded  the  old  man  terribly 
for  not  having  made  the  oven  hot  enough.  "Go 
this  minute,"  she  said,  "and  put  in  the  oven  all  the 
wood  that  it  will  hold,  and  keep  it  burning  all 
day ! " 

When  night  came,  the  old  woman  cleaned  the 
oven,  which  was  twice  as  hot  as  before ;  and  again 
she  put  in  the  boys  and  sealed  it  up.  But  the  next 
morning  the  boys  were  unhurt  and  went  to  playing. 

The  witch-woman  was  very  angry  then  ;  and  giv- 
ing the  boys  their  bows  and  arrows,  told  them  to 
go  and  play.  She  stayed  at  home  and  abused  the 
old  witch-man  all  day  for  a  poor  fire-maker. 

When  the  boys  returned  in  the  evening,  she  said : 

"To-morrow,  grandchildren,  we  will  play  Nah-oo- 
fiaJi-chce  (hide-and-seek),  and  the  one  who  is  found 
three  times  by  the  other  shall  pay  his  life." 

The  boys  agreed,2  and  secretly  prayed  to  the 
Trues  to  help  them — for  by  this  time  they  knew 
that  the  old  man  and  the  old  woman  "had  the  bad 
road." 

1  '•  The  Trues,"  as  the  Pueblos  call  their  highest  divinities. 

2  For  such  a  challenge,  which  was  once  a  common  one  with  the  Indians, 
could  not  possibly  be  declined. 


THE    MAGIC    HIDE-AND-SEEK 


The  next  day  came ; 
and  very  soon  the  old 
woman  called  them  to 
begin  the  game.  The 
boys  were  to  hide  first ; 
and  when  the  old  woman 
had  turned  her  eyes  and 
vowed  not  to  look,  they 
went  to  the  door  and 
hid,  one  against  each  of 
its  jambs.  There  you 
could  look  and  look,  and 
see  the  wood  through 
them  —  for  the  Trues,  to 
help  them,  made  them 
invisible.  When  they 
were  safely  hidden  they 
whooped,  "  Hee-tdh!" 
and  the  old  woman  be- 
gan to  hunt,  singing  the 
hide-and-seek  song: 

Hee-tdh  yahn 
Hee  choo-ah-koo 
Mee,  mee,  wee  ? 


(Now,  now, 
Which  way 
Went  they,  went  they,  went  they?) 


94  TEE-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

After  hunting  some  time  she  called : 

"  You  little  fellows  are  on  the  door-posts.  Come 
out!" 

So  the  boys  came  out  and  "made  blind"  (cov- 
ered their  eyes)  while  the  old  woman  went  to  hide. 
There  was  a  pond  close  by,  with  many  ducks  on 
it ;  and  making  herself  very  little,  she  went  and  hid 
under  the  left  wing  of  the  duck  with  a  blue  head.1 

When  they  heard  her  "Hee-tdh!"  the  boys 
went  searching  and  singing ;  and  at  last  the  elder 
cried  out : 

"  Old  woman,  you  are  under  the  left  wing  of  the 
whitest  duck  on  the  lake  —  the  one  with  the  blue 
head.  Come  out !  " 

This  time  the  boys  made  themselves  small  and 
crawled  into  the  quivers  beside  their  bows  and  ar- 
rows. The  old  woman  had  to  sing  her  song  over 
a  great  many  times,  as  she  went  hunting  all 
around  ;  but  at  last  she  called  : 

"  Come  out  of  the  quivers  where  you  are  !  " 

Then  the  witch  made  herself  very  small  indeed, 
and  went  behind  the  foot  of  a  big  crane  that  was 
standing  on  one  leg  near  the  lake.  But  at  last 
the  boys  found  her  even  there. 

It  was  their  last  turn  now,  and  the  old  woman 
felt  very  triumphant  as  she  waited  for  them  to  hide. 
But  this  time  they  went  up  and  hid  themselves 
under  the  right  arm  of  the  Sun.2  The  old  witch 
hunted  everywhere,  and  used  all  her  bad  power, 
but  in  vain  ;  and  when  she  was  tired  out  she  had 

1  I  should  tell  you  that,  bein^  a  witch,  she  could  not  possibly  have  gone 
under  the  ris;ht  wing.     Everything  that  is  to  the  left  belongs  to  the  witches. 

2  Who  is^in  the  Pueblo  belief,  the  father  of  all  things. 


"THE    WITCH    MADE    HERSELF    VERY     SMALL,   AND    WENT 
BEHIND    THE    FOOT    OF    A    BIG    CRANE." 


BRAR^ 

OF  T« 

TINIVERSITY 


THE   MAGIC    HIDE-AND-SEEK  97 

- 

to  cry,  "  Hee-tdh-ow  !  "  And  then  the  boys  came 
down  from  under  the  Sun's  arm  rejoicing. 

The  old  witch,  taking  her  last  turn,  went  to  the 
lake  and  entered  into  a  fish,  thinking  that  there 
she  would  be  perfectly  safe  from  discovery.  It  did 
take  the  boys  a  great  while  to  find  her ;  but  at  last 
they  shouted  : 

"  Old  woman,  you  are  in  the  biggest  fish  in  the 
lake.  Come  out !  " 

As  she  came  walking  toward  them  in  her  natural 
shape  again,  they  called  :  "  Remember  the  agree- 
ment !  "  and  with  their  sharp  arrows  they  killed 
the  old  witch-woman  and  then  the  old  witch-man. 
Then  they  took  away  the  two  wicked  old  hearts, 
and  put  in  place  of  each  a  kernel  of  spotless  corn  ; 
so  that  if  the  witches  should  ever  come  to  life 
again  they  would  no  longer  be  witches,  but  people 
with  pure,  good  hearts.  They  never  did  come  to 
life,  however,  which  was  just  as  well. 

Taking  their  bows  and  arrows,  the  boys  —  now 
young  men,  for  the  four  "days"  they  had  been 
with  the  witches  were  really  four  years  —  returned 
home.  At  the  village  they  found  their  anxious 
parents,  who  had  come  to  ask  the  Cacique  to  order 
all  the  people  out  to  search. 

When  all  saw  the  boys  and  heard  their  story, 
there  was  great  rejoicing,  for  those  two  witch -peo- 
ple had  been  terrors  to  the  village  for  years.  On 
their  account  no  one  had  dared  go  hunting  to  the 
south.  And  to  this  day  the  game  is  thicker  there 
than  anywhere  else  in  the  country,  because  it  has 
not  been  hunted  there  for  so  long  as  in  other  places. 
The  two  young  men  were  forgiven  for  disobedience 


98  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

* 

(which  is  a  very  serious  thing  at  any  age,  among 
the  Pueblos),  and  were  made  heroes.  The  Cacique 
gave  them  his  two  daughters  for  wives,  and  all 
the  people  did  them  honor.1 

"  Is  that  so?"  we  responded;  and  Lorenso  re- 
plied, "  That  is  so,"  gathering  his  blanket  and  rising 
to  go  without  "  putting  a  tail "  to  any  one,  for  it 
was  already  late. 

I  may  add  that  the  game  of  hide-and-seek  is  still 
played  by  my  dusky  little  neighbors,  the  Pueblo 
children,  and  the  searching-song  is  still  sung  by 
them,  exactly  as  the  boys  and  the  old  witch  played 
and  sang  —  but  of  course  without  their  magical 
talent  at  hiding. 

1  This  story  seems  to  be  one  of  the  myths  about  the  Hero  Twin  Brothers, 
the  children  of  the  Sun.  They  are,  next  to  Sun-Father  and  Moon-Mother, 
the  chief  deities  of  all  the  southwestern  tribes.  In  the  Queres  folk-lore  they 
figure  very  prominently  ;  but  in  the  Tee-wahn  are  more  disguised. 


XIV 

THE    RACE    OF    THE    TAILS 

NEARLY  every  people  has  its  own  version  of 
the  race  of  the  Hare  and  the  Tortoise.  That 
current  among  the  Pueblos  makes  the  Rabbit  the 
hero,  by  a  trick  rather  cleverer  than  ^Esop's. 

Once  the  Coyote  came  where  Pee-oo-ee-deh, 
the  little  ' '  cotton-tail "  rabbit,  sat  at  the  door  of 
his  house,  thinking. 

"What  do  you  think,  friend  Pee-oo-ee-deh?" 
said  the  Coyote. 

"  I  am  thinking,  friend  Too-whay-deh,  why  some 
have  large  tails  like  you ;  but  we  have  no  tails. 
Perhaps  if  we  had  tails  like  yours,  we  could  run 
straight ;  but  now  we  have  to  hop." 

"  It  is  true,  ah-boo"^  said  the  Coyote,  not  know- 
ing that  the  Rabbit  laughed  in  his  heart.  "  For  I 
can  run  faster  than  any  one,  and  never  did  any 
gain  from  me  in  the  foot-races.  But  you, — you  just 
hop  like  a  bird." 

The  Rabbit  made  a  sad  face,  and  the  Coyote 
said  :  "  But  come,  friend  Pee-oo-ee-deh,  let  us  run 
a  race.  We  will  run  around  the  world,  and  see 

1  Poor  thing. 
99 


TOO  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

who  will  win.  And  whichever  shall  come  in  first, 
he  shall  kill  the  other  and  eat  him."1 

"It  is  well,"  answered  the  Rabbit.  "  In  four 
days  we  will  run." 

Then  the  Coyote  went  home  very  glad.  But 
Pee-oo-ee-deh  called  a  junta  of  all  his  tribe,  and 
told  them  how  it  was,  and  the  way  he  thought  to 
win  the  race.  And  when  they  had  heard,  they  all 
said :  "  It  is  well.  Fear  not,  for  we  will  be  the  ones 
that  will  help  you." 

When  the  fourth  day  came,  the  Coyote  arrived 
smiling,  and  threw  down  his  blanket,  and  stood 
ready  in  only  the  dark  blue  taparabo?  saying: 
"  But  what  is  the  use  to  run  ?  For  I  shall  win.  It 
is  better  that  I  eat  you  now,  before  you  are  tired." 

But  the  Rabbit  threw  off  his  blanket,  and  tight- 
ened his  taparabo,  and  said :  "Pooh  !  For  the  end 
of  the  race  is  far  away,  and  there  is  time  to  talk  of 
eating.  Come,  we  will  run  around  the  four  sides 
of  the  world.3  But  /  shall  run  underground,  for 
so  it  is  easier  for  me." 

Then  they  stood  up  side  by  side.  And  when 
they  were  ready,  the  Capitan  shouted  "Hai-koo!" 
and  they  ran.  The  Coyote  ran  with  all  his  legs ; 
but  the  Rabbit  jumped  into  his  hole  and  threw  out 
sand,  as  those  who  dig  very  fast. 

Now  for  many  days  the  Coyote  kept  running  to 
the  east,  and  saw  nothing  of  Pee-oo-ee-deh.  But 

1  A  challenge  of  this   sort,  with   life  as   the  stake,  was  very  common 
among  all  Indians ;  and  it  was  impossible  for  the  challenged  to  decline.  This 
story  recalls  that  of  the  Antelope  Boy.     Four  days  always  elapsed  between 
the  challenge  and  the  race. 

2  Breech-clout,  which  is  the  only  thing  worn  in  a  foot-race. 

3  Which  the  Pueblos  believe  to  be  flat  and  square. 


THE   RACE    OF    THE   TAILS  101 

just  as  he  came  to  the  east  and  was  turning  to  the 
north,  up  jumped  a  rabbit  from  under  the  ground 
in  front  of  him,  and  shouted :  "  We  do  this  to  one 
another"  ;  and  jumped  back  in  the  hole  and  began 
to  throw  out  dirt  very  hard. 

"  Ai !  "  said  the  Coyote.  "I  wish  I  could  run 
under  the  ground  like  that,  for  it  seems  very  easy. 
For  all  these  days  I  have  run  faster  than  ever  any 
one  ran ;  yet  Pee-oo-ee-deh  comes  to  the  east 
ahead  of  me."  But  he  did  not  know  it  was  the 
brother  of  Pee-oo-ee-deh,  who  had  come  out  to 
the  east  to  wait  for  him. 

So  Too-whay-deh  ran  harder;  and  after  many 
days  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  world,  to  the 
north.  But  just  as  he  was  to  turn  west,  up 
sprang  a  rabbit,  in  front  of  him,  and  taunted  him, 
and  went  back  in  its  hole,  digging. 

The  Coyote's  heart  was  heavy,  but  he  ran  very 
hard.  "  Surely,"  he  said,  "no  one  can  run  so  fast 
as  this." 

But  when  he  came  to  the  west,  a  rabbit  sprang 
up  ahead  of  him,  and  mocked  him,  and  went  again 
under  the  ground.  And  when  he  had  run  to  the 
south,  there  was  the  same  thing.  At  last,  very 
tired  and  with  his  tongue  out,  he  came  in  sight  of 
the  starting-point,  and  there  was  Pee-oo-ee-deh, 
sitting  at  the  door  of  his  house,  smoothing  his  hair. 
And  he  said :  "  Pooh  !  Coyote-friend,  we  do  this  to 
one  another.  For  now  it  is  clear  that  big  tails  are 
not  good  to  run  with,  since  I  have  been  waiting 
here  a  long  time  for  you.  Come  here,  then,  that  I 
may  eat  you,  though  you  are  tough." 

But  Too-whay-deh,  being  a  coward,  ran  away  and 


102  TfiE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

would  not  pay  his  bet.  And  all  the  brothers  of 
Pee-oo-ee-deh  laughed  for  the  trick  they  had  put 
upon  the  Coyote. 

In  a  case  which  I  knew  of,  years  ago,  this  folk- 
story  seems  to  have  given  a  hint  to  human  racers. 
A  Mexican  who  owned  a  large  and  very  fleet- 
footed  burro,  challenged  a  young  Indian  of  Acoma 
to  a  ten-mile  race.  The  Indian  was  a  very  famous 
runner,  and  the  challenger  depended  on  the  dis- 
tance alone  to  wear  him  out.  In  accordance  with 
the  conditions  the  rivals  started  together  from 
the  goal,  the  Indian  on  foot,  the  Mexican  on  his 
burro.  For  about  four  miles  the  Indian  left  the 
galloping  donkey  far  behind ;  but  he  could  not 
keep  up  such  a  tremendous  pace,  and  the  burro  be- 
gan to  gain.  About  midway  of  the  course  where 
the  trail  touches  a  great  lava-flow,  the  Indian  dove 
into  a  cave.  Just  as  the  Mexican  was  passing,  out 
came  an  Indian,  passed  the  burro  with  a  magnifi- 
cent spurt,  and  after  a  long  run  reached  the  farther 
goal  about  a  hundred  feet  ahead.  Unfortunately 
for  him,  however,  the  trick  was  detected  —  he  was 
the  twin  brother  of  the  challenged  man,  and  had 
awaited  him  in  the  cave,  taking  up  the  race  fresh 
when  the  first  runner  was  tired  ! 


XV 


HONEST    BIG-EARS 


NEARLY  all  of  you  have,  seen  pictures  of  the 
Burro,  the  quaint  little  donkey  of  the  South- 
west. He  is  very  small, —  not  more  than  half  the 
weight  of  a  smallish  mule, —  but  very  strong",  very 
sure-footed,  and  very  reliable.  And  he  is  one  of 
the  drollest,  "  cutest,"  wisest-looking  creatures  on 
earth. 

T'ah-hla-a-hloon,  or  Big-ears,  as  the  Tee-wahn 
call  him,  does  not  appear  very  often  in  their  folk- 
lore—  and  for  a  very  natural  reason.  Most  of 
these  myths  were  made  centuries  before  a  white 
man  ever  saw  this  country ;  and  until  Europeans 
came,  there  were  neither  horses,  donkeys,  sheep, 
goats,  cats,  nor  cattle  (except  the  buffalo)  in  either 
America.  It  was  the  Spanish  pioneers  who  gave 
all  these  animals  to  the  Pueblos.  Nor  did  the  In- 
dians have  milk,  cheese,  wheat,  or  metals  of  any 
sort.  So  when  we  see  a  story  in  which  any  of 
these  things  are  mentioned,  we  may  know  that  it 
was  made  within  the  last  three  hundred  and  fifty 
years  —  or  that  an  old  story  has  been  modified  to 
include  them. 

There   is    one    of  these    comparatively  modern 


104  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

nursery-tales  which  is  designed  to  show  the  hon- 
esty and  wisdom  of  the  Burro. 

Once  Big-ears  was  coming  alone  from  the  farm 
of  his  master  to  Isleta,  carrying  a  load  of  curd 
cheeses  done  up  in  buckskin  bags.  As  he  came 
through  the  hills  he  met  a  Coyote,  who  said : 

"  Friend  Big-ears,  what  do  you  carry  on  your 
back?" 

"  I  carry  many  cheeses  for  my  master,  friend 
Too-whay-deh,"  answered  the  Burro. 

"Then  give  me  one,  friend,  for  I  am  hunger- 
dying." 

"No,"  said  the  Burro,  "I  cannot  give  you  one, 
for  my  master  would  blame  me  —  since  they  are 
not  mine  but  his,  and  a  man  of  the  pueblo  waits 
for  them." 

Many  times  the  Coyote  asked  him,  with  soft 
words ;  but  Big-ears  would  not,  and  went  his  way. 
Then  Too-whay-deh  followed  him  behind,  without 
noise,  and  slyly  bit  the  bag  and  stole  a  cheese. 
But  Big-ears  did  not  know  it,  for  he  could  not  see 
behind. 

When  he  came  to  the  pueblo,  the  man  who 
awaited  him  unloaded  the  cheeses  and  counted 
them.  "  There  lacks  one,"  he  said;  "  for  thy  master 
said  he  would  send  so  many.  Where  is  the  other?  " 

"Truly,  I  know  not,"  answered  Big-ears,  "but 
I  think  Too-whay-deh  stole  it ;  for  he  asked  me 
on  the  way  to  give  him  a  cheese.  But  wait  —  I 
will  pay  him  ! " 

So  Big-ears  went  back  to  the  hills  and  looked 
for  the  house  of  Too-whay-deh.  At  last  he  found 
it,  but  the  Coyote  was  nowhere.  So  he  lay  down 


HONEST   BIG-EARS  105 

near  the  hole,  and  stretched  his  legs  out  as  if  dead, 
and  opened  his  mouth  wide,  and  was  very  still. 

Time  passing  so,  the  Old-Woman-Coyote  came 
out  of  the  house  to  bring  a  jar  of  water.  But 
when  she  saw  the  Burro  lying  there,  she  dropped 
her  tinaja,  and  ran  in  crying : 

""ffloo-ikKf*  come  out  and  see!  For  a  buffalo 
has  died  out  here,  and  we  must  take  in  some  meat." 

So  Old-Man-Coyote  came  out,  and  was  very 
glad,  and  began  to  sharpen  his  knife. 

But  his  wife  said :  "  But  before  you  cut  him  up, 
get  me  the  liver,  for  I  am  very  hungry"  —  and  the 
liver  is  that  which  all  the  foxes  like  best. 

Then  the  Old-Man-Coyote,  thinking  to  please 
her,  went  into  the  Burro's  mouth  to  get  the  liver ; 
but  Big-ears  shut  his  teeth  on  Too-whay-deh's 
head,  and  jumped  up  and  ran  home.  The  Old- 
Woman-Coyote  followed  running,  crying:  "Ay, 
Nana  !  Let  go  ! "  But  Big-ears  would  not  lis- 
ten to  her,  and  brought  the  thief  to  his  master. 
When  the  master  heard  what  had  been,  he  killed 
the  Coyote,  and  thanked  Big-ears,  and  gave  him 
much  grass.  And  this  is  why,  ever  since,  Big- 
ears  strikes  with  his  hind  feet  if  anything  comes 
behind  him  slyly  ;  for  he  remembers  how  Too- 
whay-deh  stole  the  cheese. 

1  Old  Man. 


XVI 

THE    FEATHERED    BARBERS 

THE  Coyote,  one  summer  day,  having  taken  a 
bath  in  the  river,  lay  down  in  the  hot  sand  to  dry 
himself.     While  he  was  sleeping  there,  a  crowd  of 
Quails  came  along ;  and  seeing  that  he  was  asleep, 
they  said : 

"  Huh  !  Here  is  that  foolish  Too-whay-deh.  Let 
us  give  him  a  trick !  " 

So  they  cut  off  all  his  hair,  which  makes  one  to 
be  laughed  at,  and  ran  away. 

When  the  Coyote  woke  up  he  was  ashamed, 
and  wished  to  punish  those  who  had  made  him 
pelado ;  and  he  ran  around  to  see  if  he  could  find 
the  tracks  of  an  enemy.  There  were  only  the 
tracks  of  the  Quails,  so  he  knew  they  had  done  it. 
Very  angry,  he  followed  the  trail  until  it  went  into 
a  large  hole.  He  went  all  around  to  see  if  they 
had  not  come  out ;  but  there  were  no  other  tracks, 
so  he  went  in.  First  the  hole  was  big,  but  then 
it  grew  small,  and  he  had  to  dig.  When  he  had 
dug  a  long  time,  he  caught  a  Quail,  and  he  said: 

"Ho,  Ch'um-md-deh  !  It  is  you  that  cut  my  hair 
and  left  me  a  laughed -at.  But  I  am  going  to  eat 
you  this  very  now !  " 

106 


THE   FEATHERED   BARBERS  107 

"  No,  friend  Too-whay-deh,  it  was  another  who 
did  it.  You  will  find  him  farther  in,  with  the  scis- 
sors1 still  in  his  hand." 

So  the  Coyote  let  that  Quail  go,  and  dug  and  dug 
till  he  caught  another.  But  that  one  said  the  same 
thing;  and  Too-whay-deh  let  him  go,  and  dug 
after  the  next  one.  So  it  was,  until  he  had  let 
them  all  go,  one  by  one;  and  when  he  came  to  the 
very  end  of  the  hole,  there  were  no  more. 

With  this,  the  Coyote  was  very  angry,  and  ran 
out  of  the  hole,  promising  to  catch  and  eat  them 
all.  As  he  came  out  he  met  the  Cotton-tail,  and 
cried  with  a  fierce  face : 

"  Hear,  you  Pee-oo-ee-deh  !  If  you  don't  catch 
me  the  Ch'um-nin  that  cut  my  hair,  I  '11  eat  you  !  " 

<4  Oh,  I  can  catch  them,  friend  Coyote,"  said  the 
Rabbit.  "  See,  here  is  their  trail !  " 

When  they  had  followed  the  trail  a  long  way, 
they  saw  the  birds  sitting  and  laughing  under  a 
bush. 

"  Now  you  wait  here  while  I  go  and  catch  them," 
said  Pee-oo-ee-deh.  So  the  Coyote  sat  down  to 
rest.  As  soon  as  the  Rabbit  was  near  them,  the 
Quails  flew  a  little  way,  and  he  kept  running  after 
them.  But  as  soon  as  they  were  over  a  little  hill, 
he  turned  aside  and  ran  home,  and  the  Coyote 
never  knew  if  the  Quails  were  caught  or  not. 

1  This  indicates  that  the  tale  is  comparatively  modern. 


THE  ACCUK5LD    LAKE 


XVII 


WAY  to  the  southeast  of  the  Man- 
zano  Mountains,  two  days' jour- 
ney from  my  pueblo  of  Isleta, 
are  the  shallow  salt  lakes.  For 
scores  of  miles  their  dazzling 
sheen  is  visible  —  a  strange 
patch  of  silver  on  the  vast 
brown  plains.  They  are 
near  the  noblest  ruins  in  our 
North  America — the  won- 
drous piles  of  massive  ma- 
sonry of  Abo,  Cuaray,  and  the  so-called  "Gran 
Quivira" — the  latter  the  home  of  the  silliest  delu- 
sion that  ever  lured  treasure -hunters  to  their  death. 
The  whole  region  has  a  romantic  history,  and  is  im- 
portant to  the  scientific  student.  From  that  locality 

108 


THE   ACCURSED    LAKE  109 

came,  centuries  ago,  part  of  the  people  who  then 
founded  Isleta,  and  whose  descendants  dwell  here 
to  this  day.  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  know  why 
those  lakes  are  salt  now — for  my  Indian  neighbors 
say  that  once  they  were  fresh  and  full  of  fish,  and 
that  the  deer  and  buffalo  came  from  all  the  country 
round  to  drink  there.  The  story  is  very  important 
ethnologically,  for  it  tells  much  of  the  strange  se- 
cret religion  of  the  Pueblos,  and  more  concerning 
the  method  of  initiating  a  young  Indian  into  one 
of  the  orders  of  medicine-men — both  matters  which 
men  of  science  have  found  extremely  difficult  to 
be  learned.  Here  is  the  story  as  it  is  believed  by 
the  Tee-wahn,  and  as  it  was  related  to  me  by  one 
of  them. 

Long  ago  there  was  still  a  village  east  of  Shoo- 
paht-hoo-eh,  the  Eagle-Feather  (Manzano)  Moun- 
tains, and  in  it  lived  a  famous  hunter.  One  day, 
going  out  on  the  plains  to  the  east,  he  stalked  a 
herd  of  antelopes,  and  wounded  one  with  his  ar- 
rows. It  fled  eastward,  while  the  herd  went  south ; 
and  the  hunter  began  to  trail  it  by  the  drops  of 
blood.  Presently  he  came  to  the  largest  lake,  into 
which  the  trail  led.  As  he  stood  on  the  bank,  won- 
dering what  to  do,  a  fish  thrust  its  head  from  the 
water  and  said : 

"  Friend  Hunter,  you  are  on  dangerous  ground!" 
and  off  it  went  swimming.  Before  the  Hunter 
could  recover  from  his  surprise,  a  Lake-Man  came 
up  out  of  the  water  and  said : 

"How  is  it  that  you  are  here,  where  no  human 
ever  came  ?  " 


no  TEE- WARN   FOLK-STORIES 

The  Hunter  told  his  story,  and  the  Lake-Man 
invited  him  to  come  in.  When  he  had  entered  the 
lake,  he  came  to  a  house  with  doors  to  the  east, 
north,  west,  and  south,  and  a  trap-door  in  the  roof, 
with  a  ladder ;  and  by  the  latter  door  they  entered. 
In  their  talk  together  the  Lake- Man  learned  that 
the  Hunter  had  a  wife  and  little  son  at  home. 

"  If  that  is  so,"  said  he,  "why  do  you  not  come 
and  live  with  me?  I  am  here  alone,  and  have 
plenty  of  other  food,  but  I  am  no  hunter.  We 
could  live  very  well  here  together."  And  opening 
doors  on  four  sides  of  the  room  he  showed  the 
Hunter  four  other  huge  rooms,  all  piled  from  floor 
to  ceiling  with  corn  and  wheat  and  dried  squash 
and  the  like. 

"That  is  a  very  good  offer,"  said  the  astonished 
Hunter.  "  I  will  come  again  in  four  days  ;  and  if  my 
Cacique  will  let  me,  I  will  bring  my  family  and  stay." 

So  the  Hunter  went  home — killing  an  antelope 
on  the  way — and  told  his  wife  all.  She  thought 
very  well  of  the  offer ;  and  he  went  to  ask  permis- 
sion of  the  Cacique.  The  Cacique  demurred,  for 
this  was  the  best  hunter  in  all  the  pueblo,1  but  at 
last  consented  and  gave  him  his  blessing. 

So  on  the  fourth  day  the  Hunter  and  his  wife 
and  little  boy  came  to  the  lake  with  all  their  prop- 
erty. The  Lake- Man  met  them  cordially,  and  gave 
the  house  and  all  its  contents  into  the  charge  of  the 
woman.2 

Some  time  passed  very  pleasantly,  the  Hunter 
going  out  daily  and  bringing  back  great  quantities 

1  All  hunters  give  the  Cacique  a  tenth  of  their  game,  for  his  support. 
2  As  is  the  custom  among  all  Pueblo  Indians. 


THE    HUNTER    AND    THE    LAKE-MAN. 


THE   ACCURSED   LAKE  113 

of  game.  At  last  the  Lake- Man,  who  was  of  an 
evil  heart,  pretended  to  show  the  Hunter  some- 
thing in  the  east  room  ;  and  pushing  him  in,  locked 
the  great  door  and  left  him  there  to  starve — for 
the  room  was  full  of  the  bones  of  men  whom  he 
had  already  entrapped  in  the  same  way. 

The  boy  was  now  big  enough  to  use  his  bow 
and  arrows  so  well  that  he  brought  home  many 
rabbits;  and  the  witch-hearted  Lake- Man  began 
to  plot  to  get  him,  too,  out  of  the  way. 

So  one  morning  when  the  boy  was  about  to 
start  for  a  hunt,  he  heard  his  mother  groaning  as 
if  about  to  die;  and  the  Lake- Man  said  to  him : 

"  My  boy,  your  mother  has  a  terrible  pain,  and 
the  only  thing  that  will  cure  her  is  some  ice  from 
T'hoor-p'ah-whee-ai  [Lake  of  the  Sun],1  the  water 
from  which  the  sun  rises." 

"Then,"  said  the  boy,  straightway,  "if  that  is  so, 
I  will  take  the  heart  of  a  man  [that  is,  be  brave] 
and  go  and  get  the  ice  for  my  little  mother."  And 
away  he  started  toward  the  unknown  east. 

Far  out  over  the  endless  brown  plains  he  trudged 
bravely ;  until  at  last  he  came  to  the  house  of  Shee- 
choo-hlee-oh,  the  Old-Woman-Mole,  who  was  there 
all  alone  —  for  her  husband  had  gone  to  hunt. 
They  were  dreadfully  poor,  and  the  house  was  al- 
most falling  down,  and  the  poor,  wrinkled  Old- 
Woman-Mole  sat  huddled  in  the  corner  by  the 
fireplace,  trying  to  keep  warm  by  a  few  dying 
coals.  But  when  the  boy  knocked,  she  rose  and 
welcomed  him  kindly  and  gave  him  all  there  was 
in  the  house  to  eat- — a  wee  bowl  of  soup  with  a 

1  Located  "  somewhere  to  the  east "  ;  perhaps  the  ocean. 


n4  T£E-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

patched-up  snowbird  in  it.  The  boy  was  very 
hungry,  and  picking  up  the  snowbird  bit  a  big 
piece  out  of  it. 

"  Oh,  my  child  !  "  cried  the  old  woman,  beginning 
to  weep.  "  You  have  ruined  me  !  For  my  husband 
trapped  that  bird  these  many  years  ago,  but  we 
could  never  get  another ;  and  that  is  all  we  have 
had  to  eat  ever  since.  So  we  never  bit  it,  but 
cooked  it  over  and  over  and  drank  the  broth.  And 
now  not  even  that  is  left."  And  she  wept  bitterly. 

"Nay,  Grandmother,  do  not  worry,"  said  the 
boy.  "  Have  you  any  long  hairs?"  —  for  he  saw 
many  snowbirds  lighting  near  by. 

"  No,  my  child,"  said  the  old  woman  sadly. 
"There  is  no  other  living  animal  here,  and  you 
are  the  first  human  that  ever  came  here." 

But  the  boy  pulled  out  some  of  his  own  long 
hair  and  made  snares,  and  soon  caught  many  birds. 
Then  the  Old-Woman-Mole  was  full  of  joy;  and 
having  learned  his  errand,  she  said  : 

"  My  son,  fear  not,  for  I  will  be  the  one  that  shall 
help  you.  When  you  come  into  the  house  of  the 
Trues,  they  will  tempt  you  with  a  seat ;  but  you 
must  sit  down  only  on  what  you  have.1  Then  they 
will  try  you  with  smoking  the  weer,  but  I  will  help  you." 

Then  she  gave  him  her  blessing,  and  the  boy 
started  away  to  the  east.  At  last,  after  a  weary, 
weary  way,  he  came  so  near  the  Sun  Lake,  that 
the  Wkit-lah-wid-deh*  of  the  Trues  saw  him  com- 
ing, and  went  in  to  report. 

1  That  is,  upon  his  blanket  and  moccasins,  the  unvarying  etiquette  of  the 
Medicine  House. 

2  One  of  an  order  of  medicine-men,  who  among  other  duties,  act  as  guards 
of  the  Medicine  House. 


THE   ACCURSED    LAKE  115 

''Let  him  be  brought  in,"  said  the  Trues;  and 
the  Whit-lah-wid-deh  took  the  boy  in  and  in 
through  eight  rooms,  until  he  stood  in  the  presence 
of  all  the  gods,  in  a  vast  room.  There  were  all  the 
gods  of  the  East,  whose  color  is  white,  and  the 
blue  gods  of  the  North,  the  yellow  gods  of  the 
West,  the  red  gods  of  the  South,  and  the  rain- 
bow-colored gods  of  the  Up,  the  Down,  and  the 
Center,  all  in  human  shape.  Beyond  their  seats 
were  all  the  sacred  animals  —  the  buffalo,  the  bear, 
the  eagle,  the  badger,  the  mountain  lion,  the  rattle- 
snake, and  all  the  others  that  are  powerful  in 
medicine. 

Then  the  Trues  bade  the  boy  sit  down,  and 
offered  him  a  white  mania  (robe)  for  a  seat;  but 
he  declined  respectfully,  saying  that  he  had  been 
taught,  when  in  the  presence  of  his  elders,  to  sit 
on  nothing  save  what  he  brought,  and  he  sat  upon 
his  blanket  and  moccasins.  When  he  had  told  his 
story,  the  Trues  tried  him,  and  gave  him  the  sacred 
weer  to  smoke — a  hollow  reed  rammed  v^\t\\  pee-en- 
kleh.1  He  smoked,  and  held  the  smoke  bravely. 
But  just  then  the  Old- Woman -Mole,  who  had  fol- 
lowed him  underground  all  this  way,  dug  a  hole 
up  to  his  very  toes ;  and  the  smoke  went  down 
through  his  feet  into  the  hole,  and  away  back  to 
the  Old- Woman -Mole's  house,  where  it  poured  out 
in  a  great  cloud.  And  not  the  tiniest  particle  es- 
caped into  the  room  of  the  Trues.  He  finished 
the  second  weer*  without  being  sick  at  all ;  and  the 

1  The  smoking  of  the  pungent  weer  is  a  very  severe  ordeal ;  and  it  is  a 
disgrace  to  let  any  of  the  smoke  escape  from  the  mouth  or  nose. 

%  Two  being  the  usual  number  given  a  candidate  for  initiation  into  a  medi- 
cine order. 


ii6  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

Trues  said,  "Yes,  he  is  our  son.  But  we  will  try 
him  once  more."  So  they  put  him  into  the  room 
of  the  East  with  the  bear  and  the  lion ;  and  the 
savage  animals  came  forward  and  breathed  on  him, 
but  would  not  hurt  him.  Then  they  put  him  into 
the  room  of  the  North,  with  the  eagle  and  the 
hawk;  then  into  the  room  of  the  West,  with  the 
snakes  ;  and  lastly,  into  the  room  of  the  South, 
where  were  the  Apaches  and  all  the  other  human 
enemies  of  his  people.  And  from  each  room  he 
came  forth  unscratched. 

"  Surely,"  said  the  Trues,  "  this  is  our  son  !  But 
once  more  we  will  try  him." 

They  had  a  great  pile  of  logs  built  up  ("  cob- 
house  "  fashion),  and  the  space  between  filled  with 
pine-knots.  Then  the  Whit-lah-wid-deh  set  the 
boy  on  the  top  of  the  pile  and  lighted  it. 

But  in  the  morning,  when  the  guard  went  out, 
there  was  the  boy  unharmed  and  saying:.  "Tell 
the  Trues  I  am  cold,  and  would  like  more  fire." 

Then  he  was  brought  again  before  the  Trues, 
who  said:  "Son,  you  have  proved  yourself  a  True 
Believer,  and  now  you  shall  have  what  you  seek." 

So  the  sacred  ice  was  given  him,  and  he  started 
homeward  —  stopping  on  the  way  only  to  thank 
the  Old-Woman-Mole,  to  whose  aid  he  owed  his 
success. 

When  the  wicked  Lake- Man  saw  the  boy  com- 
ing, he  was  very  angry,  for  he  had  never  expected 
him  to  return  from  that  dangerous  mission.  But 
he  deceived  the  boy  and  the  woman  ;  and  in  a  few 
days  made  a  similar  excuse  to  send  the  boy  to  the 
gods  of  the  South  after  more  ice  for  his  mother. 


THE   ACCURSED   LAKE  117 

The  boy  started  off  as  bravely  as  before.  When 
he  had  traveled  a  great  way  to  the  south,  he  came 
to  a  drying  lake;  and  there,  dying  in  the  mud, 
was  a  little  fish. 

"Ak-boo  [poor  thing],  little  fish,"  said  the  boy; 
and  picking  it  up,  he  put  it  in  his  gourd  canteen 
of  water.  After  awhile  he  came  to  a  good  lake  ; 
and  as  he  sat  down  to  eat  his  lunch  the  fish  in  his 
gourd  said : 

"  Friend  Boy,  let  me  swim  while  you  eat,  for 
I  love  the  water." 

So  he  put  the  fish  in  the  lake ;  and  when  he  was 
ready  to  go  on,  the  fish  came  to  him,  and  he  put 
it  back  in  his  gourd.  At  three  lakes  he  let  the  fish 
swim  while  he  ate ;  and  each  time  the  fish  came 
back  to  him.  But  beyond  the  third  lake  began  a 
great  forest  which  stretched  clear  across  the  world, 
and  was  so  dense  with  thorns  and  brush  that  no 
man  could  pass  it.  But  as  the  boy  was  wonder- 
ing what  he  should  do,  the  tiny  fish  changed  itself 
into  a  great  Fish-Animal  with  a  very  hard,  strong 
skin,1  and  bidding  the  boy  mount  upon  its  back,  it 
went  plowing  through  the  forest,  breaking  down 
big  trees  like  stubble,  and  bringing  him  through 
to  the  other  side  without  a  scratch. 

"  Now,  Friend  Boy,"  said  the  Fish-Animal, 
"  you  saved  my  life,  and  I  will  be  the  one  that 
shall  help  you.  When  you  come  to  the  house 


1  It  is  quite  possible  that  this  "  Fish-Animal  with  a  hard,  strong  skin," 
living  far  to  the  south,  is  the  alligator.  Of  course,  the  Pueblos  never  saw 
that  strange  saurian ;  but  they  probably  heard  of  it  in  the  earliest  days  from 
nomad  tribes,  and  as  a  great  scientist  has  pointed  out,  we  may  always  de- 
pend upon  it  that  there  is  a  nucleus  of  truth  in  all  these  folk-myths.  Such 
a  strange  animal,  once  heard  of,  would  be  very  sure  to  figure  in  some  story. 


n8  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

of  the  Trues,  they  will  try  you  as  they  did  in 
the  East.  And  when  you  have  proved  yourself, 
the  Cacique  will  bring  you  his  three  daughters, 
from  whom  to  choose  you  a  wife.  The  two 
eldest  are  very  beautiful,  and  the  youngest  is 
not ;  but  you  ought  to  choose  her,  for  beauty 
does  not  always  reach  to  the  heart." 

The  boy  thanked  his  fish-friend  and  went  on, 
until  at  last  he  came  to  the  house  of  the  Trues  of 
the  South.  There  they  tried  him  with  the  weer 
and  the  fire,  just  as  the  Trues  of  the  East  had 
done,  but  he  proved  himself  a  man,  and  they  gave 
him  the  ice.  Then  the  Cacique  brought  his  three 
daughters,  and  said : 

"  Son,  you  are  now  old  enough  to  have  a  wife,1 
and  I  see  that  you  are  a  true  man  who  will  dare 
all  for  his  mother.  Choose,  therefore,  one  of  my 
daughters." 

The  boy  looked  at  the  three  girls ;  and  truly  the 
eldest  were  very  lovely.  But  he  remembered  the 
words  of  his  fish  friend,  and  said : 

"Let  the  youngest  be  my  wife." 

Then  the  Cacique  was  pleased,  for  he  loved 
this  daughter  more  than  both  the  others.  And 
the  boy  and  the  Cacique's  daughter  were  married 
and  started  homeward,  carrying  the  ice  and  many 
presents. 

When  they  came  to  the  great  forest,  there  was 
the  Fish- Animal  waiting  for  them,  and  taking  both 
on  his  back  he  carried  them  safely  through.  At 
the  first  lake  he  bade  them  good-by  and  blessed 
them,  and  they  trudged  on  alone. 

1  For  it  must  be  remembered  that  all  these  travels  had  taken  many  years. 


THE    CURSING    OF    THE    LAKE. 


THE   ACCURSED    LAKE  121 

At  last  they  came  in  sight  of  the  big  lake,  and 
over  it  were  great  clouds,  with  the  forked  lightning 
leaping  forth.  While  they  were  yet  far  off,  they 
could  see  the  wicked  Lake-Man  sitting  at  the  top 
of  his  ladder,  watching  to  see  if  the  boy  would 
return,  and  even  while  they  looked  they  saw  the 
lightning  of  the  Trues  strike  him  and  tear  him  to 
shreds. 

When  they  came  to  the  lake  the  boy  found  his 
mother  weeping  for  him  as  dead.  And  taking  his 
wife  and  his  mother, — but  none  of  the  things  of 
the  Lake- Man,  for  those  were  bewitched, — the  boy 
came  out  upon  the  shore.  There  he  stood  and  prayed 
to  the  Trues  that  the  lake  might  be  accurst  for- 
ever ;  and  they  heard  his  .prayer,  for  from  that 
day  its  waters  turned  salt,  and  no  living  thing  has 
drunk  therefrom. 


XVIII 

THE    MOQUI1    BOY    AND    THE    EAGLE 

SOME  of  the  folk-stories  told  in  Isleta  were 
evidently  invented  in  other  pueblos,  whence 
the  Tee-wahn  have  learned  them  in  their  trading- 
trips.  There  is  even  a  story  from  the  far-off  towns 
of  Moqui,  three  hundred  miles  west  of  here  and 
ninety  miles  from  the  railroad.  The  Moquis  live 
in  northeast  Arizona,  in  strange  adobe  towns,2 
perched  upon  impregnable  islands  of  rock,  rising 
far  above  the  bare,  brown  plain.  They  are  seldom 
visited  and  little  known  by  white  men.  All  the 
other  Pueblo  towns  and  tribes  have  changed 
somewhat  in  the  present  era  of  American  occupa- 
tion ;  but  the  Moquis  remain  very  much  as  they 
were  when  the  first  Spaniard  found  them  — 
three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  They  retain 
many  customs. long  extinct  among  their  kindred, 
and  have  some  of  which  no  trace  is  to  be  found 
elsewhere.  One  of  the  minor  differences,  but  one 
which  would  be  almost  the  first  to  strike  a  stranger, 
is  the  absence  of  captive  eagles  in  Moqui;  and  this 
is  explained  by  the  following  folk-story  : 

1  Pronounced  Moh-kee. 
-  See  "  Some  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country."  The  Century  Co.,  New  York. 


THE   MOOUI   BOY   AND   THE   EAGLE  123 

The  Eagle  is  Kah-bay-deh  (commander)  of  all  that 
flies,  and  his  feathers  are  strongest  in  medicine. 

So  long,  ago  that  no  man  can  tell  how  long, 
there  lived  in  Moqui  an  old  man  and  an  old 
woman,  who  had  two  children  —  a  boy  and  a 
girl.  The  boy,  whose  name  was  Tai-oh,  had  a 
pet  Eagle,  of  which  he  was  very  fond  ;  and  the 
Eagle  loved  its  young  master.  Despite  his 
youth,  Tai-oh  was  a  capital  hunter ;  and  every 
day  he  brought  home  not  only  rabbits  enough  for 
the  family,  but  also  to  keep  the  Eagle  well  fed. 

One  day  when  he  was  about  to  start  on  a 
hunt,  he  asked  his  sister  to  look  out  for  the 
Eagle  during  his  absence.  No  sooner  was  he 
out  of  sight  than  the  girl  began  to  upbraid  the 
bird  bitterly,  saying :  "  How  I  hate  you,  for  my 
brother  loves  you  so  much.  If  it  were  not  for 
you,  he  would  give  me  many  more  rabbits,  but 
now  you  eat  them  up." 

The  Eagle,  feeling  the  injustice  of  this,  was 
angry ;  so  when  she  brought  him  a  rabbit  for 
breakfast  the  Eagle  turned  his  head  and  looked 
at  it  sidewise,  and  would  not  touch  it.  At  noon, 
when  she  brought  him  his  dinner,  he  did  the 
same  thing;  and  at  night,  when  Tai-oh  returned, 
the  Eagle  told  him  all  that  had  happened. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Eagle,  "  I  am  very  tired  of 
staying  always  here  in  Moqui,  and  I  want  to  go 
home  to  visit  my  people  a  little.  Come  and  go 
along  with  me,  that  you  may  see  where  the 
Eagle-people  live." 

"It  is  well,"  replied  Tai-oh.  "  To-morrow 
morning  we  will  go  together," 


124  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

In  the  morning  they  all  went  out  into  the 
fields,  far  down  in  the  valley,  to  hoe  their  corn, 
leaving  Tai-oh  at  home. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Eagle,  "  untie  this  thong  from 
my  leg,  friend,  and  get  astride  my  neck,  and  we 
will  go." 

The  string  was  soon  untied,  and  Tai-oh  got 
astride  the  neck  of  the  great  bird,  which  rose  up 
into  the  air  as  though  it  carried  no  weight  at  all. 
It  circled  over  the  town  a  long  time,  and  the  people 
cried  out  with  wonder  and  fear  at  seeing  an  Eagle 
with  a  boy  on  his  back.  Then  they  sailed  out  over 
the  fields,  where  Tai-oh's  parents  and  his  sister 
were  at  work ;  and  all  the  three  began  to  cry,  and 
went  home  in  great  sorrow. 

The  Eagle  kept  soaring  up  and  up  until  they 
came  to  the  very  sky.  There  in  the  blue  was 
a  little  door,  through  which  the  Eagle  flew. 
Alighting  on  the  floor  of  the  sky,  he  let  Tai- 
oh  down  from  his  back,  and  said : 

"  Now,  you  wait  here,  friend,  while  I  go  and 
see  my  people,"  and  off  he  flew.  ' 

Tai-oh  waited  three  days,  and  still  the  Eagle  did 
not  return ;  so  he  became  uneasy  and  started  out 
to  see  what  he  could  find.  After  wandering  a  long 
way,  he  met  an  old  Spider-woman. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  son  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  trying  to  find  my  friend,  the  Eagle." 

"Very  well,  then,  I  will  help  you.  Come  into 
my  house." 

"  But  how  can  I  come  into  so  small  a  door?" 
objected  Tai-oh. 

"Just  put  your  foot  in,  and  it  will  open  big 
enough  for  you  to  enter/' 


THE   MOQUI   BOY   AND   THE   EAGLE  125 

So  Tai-oh  put  his  foot  in,  and,  sure  enough,  the 
door  opened  wide,  and  he  went  into  the  Spider's 
house  and  sat  down.  v 

"Now,"  said  she,  "you  will  have  some  trouble 
in  getting  to  the  house  of  your  friend,  the  Eagle, 
for  to  get  there  you  will  have  to  climb  a  dreadful 
ladder.  It  is  well  that  you  came  to  me  for  help, 
for  that  ladder  is  set  with  sharp  arrow-heads  and 
knives  of  flint,  so  that  if  you  tried  to  go  up  it,  it 
would  cut  your  legs  off.  But  I  will  give  you  this 
sack  of  sacred  herbs  to  help  you.  When  you  come 
to  the  ladder,  you  must  chew  some  of  the  herbs 
and  spit  the  juice  on  the  ladder,  which  will  at  once 
become  smooth  for  you."1 

Tairoh  thanked  the  Spider-woman  and  started 
off  with  the  sack.  After  awhile  he  came  to  the 
foot  of  a  great  ladder,  which  went  away  up  out  of 
sight.  Its  sides  and  rungs  were  bristling  with  keen 
arrow-heads,  so  that  no  living  thing  could  climb 
it;  but  when  Tai-oh  chewred  some  of  the  magic 
herb  and  spat  upon  the  ladder,  all  the  sharp  points 
fell  off,  and  it  was  so  smooth  that  he  climbed  it 
without  a  single  scratch. 

After  a  long,  long  climb,  he  came  to  the  top  of 
the  ladder,  and  stepped  upon  the  roof  of  the  Eagles' 
house.  But  when  he  came  to  the  door  he  found  it 
so  bristling  with  arrow-points  that  whoever  might 
try  to  enter  would  be  cut  to  pieces.  '  Again  he 
chewed  some  of  the  herb,  and  spat  upon  the  door ; 

1  This  recalls  a  superstition  of  the  Peruvian  mountain  Indians,  ancient 
and  modern.  The  latter  I  have  often  seen  throwing  upon  a  stone  at  the  crest 
of  a  mountain  pass  the  quid  of  coca-leaves  they  had  been  chewing.  They 
believe  such  use  of  this  sacred  herb  propitiates  the  spirits  and  keeps  off  the 
terrible  soroche,  or  mountain-sickness  ;  and  that  it  also  makes  veins  of  metal 
easier  to  be  worked  —  softening  the  stone,  even  as  it  did  for  Tai-oh. 


126  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES  " 

and  at  once  all  the  points  fell  off,  and  he  entered 
safely,  and  inside  he  found  his  Eagle-friend,  and 
all  the  Eagle-people.  His  friend  had  fallen  in  love 
with  an  Eagle-girl  and  married  her,  and  that  was 
the  reason  he  had  not  returned  sooner. 

Tai-oh  stayed  there  some  time,  being  very  nicely 
entertained,  and  enjoyed  himself  greatly  in  the 
strange  sky-country.  At  last  one  of 'the  wise  old 
Eagle-men  came  to  him  and  said:  * 

"  Now,  my  son,  it  is  well  that  you  go  home,  for 
your  parents  are  very  sad,  thinking  you  are  dead. 
After  this,  whenever  you  seen  an  Eagle  caught 
and  kept  captive,  you  must  let  it  go ;  for  now  you 
have  been  in  our  country,  and  know  that  when  we 
come  home  we  take  off  our  feather-coats  and  are 
people  like  your  own." 

So  Tai-oh  went  to  his  Eagle-friend  and  said  he 
thought  he  must  go  home. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Eagle;  "  get  on  my  neck 
and  shut  your  eyes,  and  we  will  go." 

So  he  got  on,  and  they  went  down  out  of  the 
sky,  and  down  and  down  until  at  last  they  came  to 
Moqui.  There  the  Eagle  let  Tai-oh  down  among 
the  wondering  people,  and,  bidding  him  an  affec- 
tionate good-by,  flew  off  to  his  young  wife  in  the 
sky. 

Tai-oh  went  to  his  home  loaded  down  with  dried 
meat  and  tanned  buckskin,  which  the  Eagle  had 
given  him ;  and  there  was  great  rejoicing,  for  all 
had  given  him  up  as  dead.  And  this  is  why,  to 
this  very  day,  the  Moquis  will  not  keep  an  Eagle 
captive,  though  nearly  all  the  other  Pueblo  towns 
have  all  the  Eagle-prisoners  they  can  get. 


XIX 

THE  NORTH  WIND  AND  THE  SOUTH  WIND 

VT EARLY  every  nation  has  its  folk-lore  concern - 
iM  ing  Jack  Frost  and  his  anti-type.  The  cold 
North  Wind  is  always  the  enemy  of  man,  and  the 
warm  South  Wind  always  his  friend.  The  Queres 
pueblos  of  Acofna  and  Laguna  have  an  allegorical 
folk-story,  in  which  the  good  spirit  of  heat  defeats 
his  icy-hearted  rival. 

Once,  long  ago,  the  ta-po-pe  (governor)  of 
Acoma  had  a  beautiful  daughter,  for  whom  many 
of  the  young  men  had  asked  in  vain,  for  she  would 
have  none  of  them.  One  day  there  came  climbing 
up  the  stone  ladder  to  the  cliff-built  pueblo  a  tall 
and  handsome  stranger.  His  dress  glistened  with 
white  crystals,  and  his  face,  though  handsome,  was 
very  stern.  The  fair  kot-chin-d-ka  (chiefs  daugh- 
ter), bending  at  a  pool  in  the  great  rock  to  fill  her 
water-jar,  saw  and  admired  him  as  he  came  strid- 
ing proudly  to  the  village ;  and  he  did  not  fail  to 
notice  the  dusky  beauty.  Soon  he  asked  for  her  in 
due  form;  and  in  a  little  while  they  were  to  be 
married. 

But,  with  the  coming  of  Sho-kee-ah  —  for  that 
was  the  name  of  the  handsome  stranger — a  sad 


128  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

change  befell  Acoma.  The  water  froze  in  the 
springs  and  the  corn  withered  in  the  fields.  Every 
morning  Sho-kee-ah  left  the  town  and  went  away 
to  his  home  in  the  far  North ;  and  every  evening 
he  returned,  and  the  air  grew  chill  around.  The 
people  could  raise  no  crops,  for  the  bitter  cold 
killed  all  that  they  planted,  and  nothing  would  grow 
but  the  thorny  cactus.  To  keep  from  starving, 
they  had  to  eat  the  cactus-leaves,  roasting  them 
first  to  remove  the  sharp  thorns.  One  day,  when 
the  kot-chin-d-ka  was  roasting  cactus-leaves,  there 
came  another  handsome  stranger  with  a  sunny 
smile  and  stood  beside  her. 

"What  dost  thou  there?"  he  asked;  and  she 
told  him. 

"  But  do  not  so,"  said  the  young  man,  giving  her 
an  ear  of  green  corn.  "  Eat  this,  and  I  will  bring 
thee  more." 

So  saying,  he  was  gone ;  but  very  soon  he  re- 
turned with  such  a  load  of  green  corn  as  the 
strongest  man  could  not  lift,  and  carried  it  to 
her  house. 

"Roast  this,"  he  said,  "and  when  the  people 
come  to  thee,  give  them  each  two  ears,  for  hereafter 
there  shall  always  be  much  corn." 

She  roasted  the  corn  and  gave  it  to  the  people, 
who  took  it  eagerly,  for  they  were  starving.  But 
soon  Sho-kee-ah  returned,  and  the  warm,  bright 
day  grew  suddenly  cold  and  cloudy.  As  he 
put  his  foot  on  the  ladder  to  come  down  into  the 
house  (all  Pueblo  rooms  used  to  be  entered  only 
from  the  roof,  and  thousands  are  so  yet)  great 
flakes  of  snow  fell  around  him ;  but  Mi-o-chin, 


THE   NORTH   WIND   AND   THE   SOUTH   WIND      129 

the    newcomer,    made    it    very    warm,    and    the 
snow    melted. 

"Now,"  said  Sho-kee-ah,  -'we  will  see  which  is 
more  powerful ;  and  he  that  is  shall  have  the  kot- 
chin-d-ka"  Mi-o-chin  accepted  the  challenge,  and 
it  was  agreed  that  the  contest  should  begin  on  the 
morrow  and  last  three  days.  Mi-o-chin  went  to 
consult  an  old  Spider- woman  as  to  the  best  way  to 
conquer  his  powerful  rival,  and  she  gave  him  the 
necessary  advice. 

Next  day  the  people  all  gathered  to  see  the  trial 
of  strength  between  the  two  wizards.  Sho-kee-ah 
"made  medicine,"  and  caused  a  driving  sleet  and 
a  bitter  wind  that  froze  all  waters.  But  Mi-o-chin 
built  a  fire  and  heated  small  stones  in  it,  and  with 
them  caused  a  warm  South  Wind,  which  melted  the 
ice.  On  the  second  day,  Sho-kee-ah  used  more 
powerful  incantations,  and  made  a  deep  snow  to 
cover  the  world ;  but  again  Mi-o-chin  brought  his 
South  Wind  and  chased  away  the  snow.  On  the 
third  day  Sho-kee-ah  used  his  strongest  spell,  and 
it  rained  great  icicles,  until  everything  was  buried 
under  them.  But  when  Mi-o-chin  built  his  fire 
and  heated  the  stones,  again  the  warm  South  Wind 
drove  away  the  ice  and  dried  the  earth.  So  it 
remained  to  Mi-o-chin ;  and  the  defeated  Sho-kee- 
ah  went  away  to  his  frozen  home  in  the  North, 
leaving  Mi-o-chin  to  live  happy  ever  after  with  the 
kot-chin-d-ka,  whom  he  married  amid  the  rejoicing 
of  all  the  people  of  Acoma. 


XX 

THE    TOWN    OF    THE    SNAKE-GIRLS 

IN  the  times  that  were  farthest  back,  the  fore- 
fathers of  those  who  now  dwell  in  Isleta  were 
scattered  about  in  many  small  villages.  You  have 
already  heard  the  myths  of  how  the  inhabitants  of 
several  villages  finally  abandoned  their  homes  and 
came  to  live  in  the  one  big  town  of  the  Tee-wahn. 
Three  miles  north  of  Isleta,  amid  the  sandy  plain 
of  Los  Padillas,  stands  the  strange  round  mesa  of 
Shee-em-too-ai.  It  is  a  circular  '•'  island  "  of  hard, 
black  lava,  cut  off  from  the  long  lava  cliffs  which 
wall  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  on  the  west.  Its 
level  top,  of  over  fifty  acres,  is  some  two  hundred 
feet  above  the  plain  ;  the  last  fifty  feet  being  a 
stern  and  almost  unbroken  cliff.  Upon  its  top  are 
still  visible  the  crumbling  ruins  of  the  pueblo  of 
Poo-reh-tu-ai —  a  town  deserted,  as  we  are  histori- 
cally sure,  over  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago. 
The  mound  outlines  of  the  round  estufa,  the  houses 
and  the  streets,  are  still  easy  to  be  traced,  and  bits 
of  pottery,  broken  arrow-heads,  and  other  relics, 
sfill  abound  there.  In  history  we  know  no  more  of 
the  pueblo  than  that  it  was  once  there,  but  had 
been  abandoned  already  when  Coronado  passed  in 


THE   TOWN    OF    THE    SNAKE-GIRLS  131 

1540;  but  my  aboriginal  friends  and  fellow-citizens 
of  Shee-eh-whib-bahk  have  an  interesting  legend 
of  the  pueblo  of  Poo-reh-tu-ai  and  the  cause  which 
led  to  its  abandonment. 

When  the  mesa  town  was  inhabited,  so  was 
Isleta;  and,  being  but  three  miles  apart,  the  inter- 
communication was  constant.  At  one  time,  four 
hundred  years  ago  or  more,  there  lived  in  Isleta 
a  very  handsome  youth  whose  name  was  K'oo- 
ah-mah-koo-hoo-oo-ai-deh — which  means  Young- 
Man-  Who-Embraces-a-Corncob. 

In  spite  of  this  serious  burden  of  a  title,  the 
young  man  was  greatly  admired,  and  had  many 
friends.  Probably  they  called  him  something  else 
"for  short,"  or  people  would  n't  have  had  time  to 
associate  with  him.  There  were  two  sisters,  very 
pretty  girls,  living  in  Poo-reh-tu-ai,  and  they  fell 
very  seriously  in  love,  both  with  this  same  youth. 
But  he  had  never  really  found  out  how  handsome 
he  was,  and  so  thought  little  about  girls  anyhow, 
caring  more  to  run  fastest  in  the  races  and  to  kill 
the  most  game  in  the  hunts.  The  sisters,  finding 
that  he  would  not  notice  their  shy  smiles,  began  to 
make  it  in  their  way  to  pass  his  house  whenever 
they  came  to  Isleta,  and  to  say  hin-a-ku-pui-yoo 
(good  morning)  as  they  met  him  on  the  road.  But 
he  paid  no  attention  to  them  whatever,  except 
to  be  polite  ;  and  even  when  they  sent  him  the 
modest  little  gift  which  means  "there  is  a  young 
lady  who  loves  you  ! "  he  was  as  provokingly  in- 
different as  ever. 

After  long  coquetting  in  vain,  the  girls  began  to 
hate  him  as  hard  as  before  they  had  loved  him. 


132  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

They  decided,  no  doubt,  that  he  was  oo-teh,  the 
Tee-wahn  word  for  "a  mean  old  thing";  and 
finally  one  proposed  that  they  put  him  out  of  the 
way,  for  both  sisters,  young  and  pretty  as  they 
were,  were  witches. 

"We  will  teach  him,"  said  one. 

" Yes,"  said  the  other,  "he  ought  to  be  pun- 
ished; but  how  shall  we  do  it?" 

"  Oh,  we  will  invite  him  to  play  a  game  of  mah- 
khur,  and  then  we'll  fix  him.  I  '11  go  now  and 
make  the  hoop." 

The  witch-sisters  made  a  very  gay  hoop,  and 
then  sent  word  to  the  youth  to  meet  them  at  the 
sacred  sand-hill,  just  west  of  Isleta,  as  they  had 
important  business  with  him.  Wondering  what  it 
could  be,  he  met  them  at  the  appointed  time  and 
place. 

"Now,  Brother  Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a- 
Corncob,"  said  the  eldest  sister,  "  we  want  to  amuse 
ourselves  a  little,  so  let  us  have  a  game  of  mah- 
khur.  We  have  a  very  nice  hoop  to  play  it.  You 
go  half-way  down  the  hill  and  see  if  you  can  catch 
it  when  we  roll  it  to  you.  If  you  can,  you  may 
have  the  hoop ;  but  if  you  fail,  you  come  and  roll 
it  to  us  and  we'll  see  if  we  can  catch  it." 

So  he  we*nt  down  the  hill  and  waited,  and  the 
girls  sent  the  bright  wheel  rolling  toward  him. 
He  was  very  nimble,  and  caught  it  "on  the  fly"; 
but  that  very  instant  he  was  no  longer  the  tall, 
handsome  Young-Man- Who-Embraces-a-Corncob, 
but  a  poor  little  Coyote,  with  great  tears  rolling 
down  his  cheeks.  The  witch-sisters  came  laughing 
and  taunting  him,  and  said : 


THE   TOWN   OF   THE   SNAKE-GIRLS  133 

"  You  see  it  would  have  been  better  to  marry 
us !  But  now  you  will  always  be  a  Coyote  and 
an  outcast  from  home.  You  may  roam  to  the 
north  and  to  the  south  and  to  the  west,  but  never 
to  the  east"  (and  therefore  not  back  to  Isleta). 

The  Coyote  started  off,  still  weeping;  and  the 
two  wicked  sisters  went  home  rejoicing  at  their 
success.  The  Coyote  roamed  away  to  the  west, 
and  at  last  turned  south.  After  a  time  he  came 
across  a  party  of  Isleteiios1  returning  from  a  trad- 
ing-trip to  the  Apache  country.  He  sneaked 
about  their  camp,  snapping  up  odd  scraps — for 
he  was  nearly  starved.  In  the  morning  the  Indians 
spied  this  Coyote  sitting  and  watching  them  at  a 
little  distance,  and  they  set  their  dogs  on  him. 
But  the  Coyote  did  not  run ;  and  when  the  dogs 
came  to  him  they  merely  sniffed  and  came  away 
without  hurting  him — though  every  one  knows 
that  the  dog  and  the  Coyote  have  been  enemies 
almost  ever  since  the  world  began.  The  Indians 
were  greatly  astonished ;  and  one  of  them,  who 
was  a  medicine-man,  began  to  suspect  that  there 
was  something  wrong.  So,  without  saying  any- 
thing to  the  others,  he  walked  over  to  the  Coyote 
and  said:  "Coyote,  are  you  Coyote-true,  or  some- 
body bewitched  ?  "  But  the  Coyote  made  no  reply. 
Again  the  medicine-man  asked:  "Coyote,  are  you 
a  man  ?  "  At  this  the  Coyote  nodded  his  head  af- 
firmatively, while  tears  rolled  from  his  eyes. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  the  medicine-man,  "come 
with  me."  So  the  Coyote  rose  and  followed  him 
to  the  camp ;  and  the  medicine-man  fed  and  cared 

1  Pronounced  Eez-lay-tayn-yos. 


134  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

for  him  as  the  party  journeyed  toward  Isleta.  The 
last  night  they  camped  at  the  big  barranca,  just 
below  the  village ;  and  here  the  medicine-man  told 
his  companions  the  story  of  the  bewitchment, — for 
the  Coyote  had  already  told  him, — and  they  were 
all  greatly  astonished,  and  very  sad  to  learn  that 
this  poor  Coyote  was  their  handsome  friend,  K'co- 
ah-mah-koo-hoo-oo-ai-deh. 

"Now,"  said  the  medicine-man,  " we  will  make 
a  nice  hoop  and  try  a  game."  He  made  it,  and 
said  to  the  Coyote:  " Friend,  go  and  stand  over 
there ;  and  when  I  roll  this  hoop  toward  you,  you 
must  jump  and  put  your  head  through  it  before  it 
stops  rolling  or  falls  over  upon  its  side." 

The  Coyote  stood  off,  and  the  medicine-man 
sent  the  hoop  rolling  toward  him  very  hard.  Just 
as  it  came  near  enough  the  Coyote  made  a  won- 
derful jump  and  put  his  head  squarely  through  the 
middle  of  it — and  there,  instead  of  the  gaunt  Coy- 
ote, stood  the  Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corn- 
cob,  handsome  and  well  and  strong  as  ever.  They 
all  crowded  around  to  congratulate  him  and  to  listen 
to  what  had  befallen  him. 

"  Now,"  said  the  medicine-man,  "when  we  get 
home,  the  two  witch-sisters  will  come  to  congratu- 
late you,  and  will  pretend  not  to  know  anything  of 
the  trouble  that  befell  you,  and  when  you  see  them 
you  must  invite  them  to  a  game  of  mah-khur" 

It  all  came  about  as  he  said.  When  the  party 
got  back  to  Isleta  all  the  people  welcomed  the 
young  man  whose  mysterious  disappearance  had 
made  all  sad.  The  news  of  his  return  spread  rap- 
idly, and  soon  reached  the  village  of  Poo-reh-tu-ai. 


THE   TOWN    OF    THE    SNAKE-GIRLS  135 

In  a  day  or  two  the  witch-sisters  came  to  Isleta, 
bringing  on  their  heads  baskets  of  the  choicest 
foods  and  other  gifts,  which  they  presented  to  him 
in  the  most  cordial  manner.  To  see  how  they 
welcomed  him,  one  would  never*  fancy  that  they 
had  been  the  wicked  causes  of  his  suffering.  He 
played  his  part  equally  well,  and  gave  no  sign 
that  he  saw  through  their  duplicity.  At  last,  when 
they  were  about  to  start  home,  he  said :  "  Sisters, 
let  us  come  to  the  sand-hill  to-morrow  to  play  a 
little  game." 

An  invitation — or  rather  a  challenge — of  that 
sort  must  be  accepted  under  all  Indian  etiquette ; 
and  the  witch-sisters  agreed.  So  at  the  appointed 
hour  they  met  him  at  the  sacred  hill.  He  had 
made  a  very  beautiful  hoop,  and  when  they  saw  it 
they  were  charmed,  and  took  their  positions  at  the 
foot  of  the  declivity.  "  One,  two,  three  !"  he  counted; 
and  at  the  word  "  three ! "  sent  the  hoop  rolling 
down  to  them.  They  both  grabbed  it  at  the  same 
instant,  and  lo  !  instead  of  the  pretty,  but  evil- 
minded  sisters  of  Poo-reh-tu-ai,  there  lay  two  huge 
rattlesnakes,  with  big  tears  falling  from  their  eyes. 
Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob  laid  upon 
their  ugly,  flat  heads  a  pinch  of  the  sacred  meal, 
and  they  ran  out  their  tongues  and  licked  it. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "this  is  what  happens  to  the 
treacherous.  Here  in  these  cliffs  shall  be  your 
home  forever.  You  must  never  go  to  the  river,  so 
you  will  suffer  with  thirst  and  drag  yourselves  in 
the  dust  all  the  days  of  your  life." 

The  Young  -  Man  -Who  -  Embraces  -  a  -  Corncob 
went  back  to  Isleta,  where  he  lived  to  a  ripe  old 


136  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

age.  As  for  the  snakes,  they  went  to  live  in  the 
cliffs  of  their  own  mesa.  The  people  of  Poo-reh- 
tu-ai  soon  learned  of  the  fate  of  the  witch-sisters, 
and  knew  that  those  two  great  snakes,  with  tears 
in  their  eyes,  were  they.  That  was  the  beginning  of 
the  downfall  of  Poo-reh-tu-ai ;  for  the  people  grew 
fearful  of  one  another,  lest  there  might  be  many 
more  witches,  unbeknown,  among  them.  The  dis- 
trust and  discontent  grew  rapidly  —  for  to  this  day 
nothing  on  earth  will  disrupt  any  Indian  commu- 
nity so  quickly  or  so  surely  as  the  belief  that  some 
of  the  people  are  witches.  In  a  very  short  time 
the  people  decided  to  abandon  Poo-reh-tu-ai  alto- 
gether. Most  of  them  migrated,  to  the  Northwest, 
and  I  have  not  as  yet  found  even  a  legend  to  tell 
what  became  of  them.  The  rest  settled  in  Isleta, 
where  their  descendants  dwell  to  this  day.  There 
are  old  men  here  now  who  claim  that  their  great- 
grandfathers used  to  see  the  two  huge  rattle- 
snakes basking  on  the  cliffs  of  the  mesa  of  Shee- 
em-too-ai,  and  that  the  snakes  always  wept  when 
people  came  near  them. 


XXI 

THE    DROWNING    OF    PECOS 

q^WENTY-FIVE  miles  southeast  of  Santa  Fe, 
JL  New  Mexico,  lie  the  deserted  ruins  of  the 
ancient  Pueblo  town  of  Pecos.  The  village  was  fi- 
nally abandoned  by  the  Indians  in  1840;  and  their 
neat  houses  of  adobe  bricks  and  stone,  and  their 
quaint  adobe  church,  have  sadly  fallen  to  decay. 
The  history  of  the  abandonment  of  Pecos  is  by 
no  means  startling;  but  the  Indian  tradition  —  for 
they  have  already  added  this  to  their  countless 
myths — is  decidedly  so.  The  story  is  related 
by  two  aged  Pecos  Indians  who  still  live  in  the 
pueblo  of  Jemez. 

"Now,  this  is  a  true  story,"  said  my  infor- 
mant, an  Isletefio,  who  had  often  heard  it  from 
them. 

Once  Pecos  was  a  large  village,  and  had  many 
people.1  But  it  came  that  nearly  all  of  them  had 
the  evil  road,  and  in  the  whole  town  were  but  five 
True  Believers  (in  the  Indian  religion).  These 
were  an  old  woman,  her  two  sons,  and  two  other 
young  men.  Agostin,  her  elder  son,  was  a  famous 

1  It  was,  indeed,  the  largest  pueblo  in  New  Mexico,  having  at  one  time  a 
population  of  about  2000. 


137 


138  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

hunter,  and  very  often  went  to  the  mountains  with 
a  friend  of  his  who  had  an  evil  spirit  —  though 
Agostin  was  not  aware  of  that. 

One  day  the  friend  invited  Agostin  to  go  hunt- 
ing, and  next  day  they  went  to  the  mountains. 
Just  at  the  foot  they  found  a  herd  of  deer,  one  of 
which  Agostin  wounded.  The  deer  fled  up  the 
mountain,  and  the  two  friends  followed  by  the 
drops  of  blood.  Half-way  to  the  top  they  came 
to  a  second  herd,  which  ran  off  to  the  right  of 
the  trail  they  were  following,  and  the  evil-spirited 
friend  went  in  pursuit  of  them,  while  Agostin  kept 
on  after  the  one  he  had  wounded. 

He  came  at  last  to  the  very  top  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  there  of  a  sudden  the  trail  ceased. 
Agostin  hunted  all  about,  but  in  vain,  and  at 
last  started  down  the  other  side  of  the  mountain. 

As  he  came  to  a  deep  canon  he  heard  singing, 
and,  peering  cautiously  through  the  bushes,  he 
saw  a  lot  of  witch-men  sitting  around  a  fallen 
pine  and  singing,  while  their  chief  was  trying 
to  raise  the  tree. 

Agostin  recognized  them  all,  for  they  were  of 
Pecos,  and  he  was  much  grieved  when  he  saw  his 
friend  among  them.  Then  he  knew  that  the  deer 
had  all  been  witches,  and  that  they  had  led  him  off 
on  a  false  trail. 

Greatly  alarmed,  he  crept  back  to  a  safe  dis- 
tance, and  then  hurried  home  and  told  his  aged 
mother  all  that  had  happened,  asking  her  if  he 
should  report  it  to  the  Cacique. 

"No,"  said  she,  with  a  sigh,  "it  is  of  no  use; 
for  he,  too,  has  the  evil  road.  There  are  but  few 


THE   DROWNING   OF   PECOS  139 

True  Believers  left,  and  the  bad  ones  are  trying 
to  use  us  up." 

Among  the  five  good  people  was  one  of  the 
Cum-pah-whit-lah-wen  (guards  of  the  medicine- 
men) ;  and  to  him  Agostin  told  his  story.  But  he 
also  said :  "  It  is  of  no  use.  We  are  too  few  to  do 
anything." 

At  last  the  bad  people  falsely  accused  the  old 
woman,  saying  that  her  power  was  more  than  that 
of  all  the  medicine-men  put  together  (which  is  a 
very  serious  charge,  even  to-day,  among  the  In- 
dians) ;  and  challenged  her  to  come  before  all  the 
people  in  the  medicine-house  and  perform  miracles 
with  them,  well  knowing  that  she  could  not.  The 
challenge  was  for  life  or  death ;  whichever  side 
won  was  to  kill  the  others  without  being  resisted. 

The  poor  old  woman  told  her  sons,  with  tears, 
saying:  ''Already  we  are  killed.  We  know  noth- 
ing of  these  things,  and  we  may  make  ready  to  die." 

"  Nay,  Nana,"  said  Agostin.1  "  Despair  not  yet, 
but  prepare  lunch  for  Pedro l  and  me,  that  we  go  to 
other  villages  for  advice.  Perhaps  there  the  medi- 
cine-men will  tell  us  something." 

So  the  mother,  still  weeping,  made  some  tor- 
tillas, and,  strapping  these  to  their  belts,  the  young 
men  set  out. 

Pedro,  the  younger,  went  east,  and  Agostin  took 
the  road  to  the  north.  Whatever  person  they  met, 
or  to  whatever  village  they  came,  they  were  to  seek 
advice. 

When  Agostin  came  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains, 
he  was  very  thirsty,  but  there  was  no  water.  As  he 

1  Pronounced  Ah-gohs-teen  and  Pay-droh. 


140  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

entered  a  gQfge  he  saw  H'yo-kwah-kwah-bay-deh, 
a  little  bird  which  builds  its  nest  with  pebbles  and 
clay  in  the  crannies  of  the  cliffs,  and  is  of  exactly 
the  same  color  as  the  sandstones.  He  thought, 
"Ah,  little  bird,  if  you  could  speak  I  would  ask 
you  where  there  is  water,  for  I  am  fainting  with 
thirst,  and  dare  not  eat,  for  that  would  make  it 
worse ! " 

But  the  little  bird,  knowing  his  thought,  said : 

"Friend  Agostin,  I  see  that  you  are  one  of  the 
True  Believers,  and  I  will  show  you  where  there  is 
water ;  or  wait,  I  will  go  and  bring  you  some,  for 
it  is  very  far."  And  off  he  flew. 

'Agostin  waited,  and  presently  the  little  bird 
came  back,  bringing  an  acorn-cup- full  of  water. 
Then  Agostin's  heart  sank,  and  he  thought :  "  Alas  ! 
what  good  will  that  drop  do  me  ?  " 

But  the  little  bird  replied :  "  Do  not  think  that 
way,  friend.  Here  is  enough,  and  even  more ;  for 
when  you  drink  all  you  wish,  there  will  still  be 
some  left." 

And  so  it  was.  Agostin  drank  and  drank,  then 
ate  some  tortillas  and  drank  again  ;  and  when  he 
was  satisfied,  the  acorn-cup  was  still  nearly  full. 

Then  the  little  bird  said  :  "  Now  come,  and  I  will 
lead  you.  But  when  we  come  to  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  and  I  say,  'We  are  at  the  top,'  you  must 
say,  'No,  we  are  down  in  the  mountain  — at  the 
bottom  of  it.'  Do  not  forget." 

Agostin  promised,  and  the  little  bird  flew  in  front 
of  him.  At  last  they  were  at  the  top,  and  the  little 
bird  said : 

"  Here  we  are,  friend,  at  the  top." 


THE   DROWNING    OF   PECOS  141 

"No,"  answered  Agostin,  "we  are  down  in  the 
mountain  —  at  the  bottom  of  it." 

Three  times  the  little  bird  repeated  his  words, 
and  three  times  Agostin  made  the  same  answer. 

At  the  third  reply  they  found  themselves  in  a 
room  in  the  mountain.  There  was  a  door  in  front 
of  them,  and  beside  it  stood  a  Cum-pah-whit-lah- 
wid-deh  (guard),  who  said  to  Agostin — for  the 
little  bird  had  disappeared: 

"Son,  how  came  you  here,  where  none  ever 
think  of  coming?  Do  you  think  you  are  a  man?" 

Agostin  told  the  whole  story  of  the  witches' 
challenge,  and  of  how  he  had  gone  out  to  seek 
advice,  and  of  how  the  little  bird  had  brought  him 
here,  and  the  guard  said : 

"  You  are  coming  with  the  thought  of  a  man  ;  so 
now  come  in,"  and  he  opened  the  door. 

But  when  Agostin  entered  the  inner  room,  which 
was  so  large  that  no  end  could  be  seen,  he  found 
himself  in  the  presence  of  the  Trues  in  human  shape. 

There  sat  the  divinities  of  the  East,  who  are 
white ;  and  of  the  North,  who  are  blue ;  and  be- 
yond them  were  the  sacred  animals — the  mountain 
lion,  the  eagle,  bear,  buffalo,  badger,  hawk,  rabbit, 
rattlesnake,  and  all  the  others  that  are  of  the  Trues. 
Agostin  was  very  much  afraid,  but  the  guard  said 
to  him : 

"Do  not  fear,  son,  but  take  the  heart  of  a  man, 
and  pray  to  all  sides."  So  he  faced  to  the  six 
sides,  praying.  When  he  had  finished,  one  of  the 
Trues  spoke  to  him,  and  said  : 

"What  can  it  be  that  brought  you  here?  Take 
the  heart  of  a  man  and  tell  us." 


142  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

Then  Agostin  told  his  whole  story ;  after  which 
the  Trues  said  to  him : 

"  Do  not  be  worried,  son.  We  will  help  you  out 
of  that." 

The  principal  True  of  the  East  said : 

"Son,  I  will  give  you  the  clothes  you  must  wear 
when  you  are  in  the  medicine-house  for  the  contest 
of  power " ;  and  he  gave  Agostin  four  dark-blue 
breech-clouts  and  some  moccasins  for  himself  and 
the  three  other  good  young  men,  and  a  black 
mania  (robe)  and  pair  of  moccasins  for  his  mother. 

"Now,"  said  the  True,  "the  evil-spirited  ones 
will  have  this  medicine-making  contest  in  the  es- 
//{/tf/and  when  you  enter,  you  five,  you  must  all  be 
dressed  in  these  clothes.  The  people  will  all  be 
there,  old  and  young,  and  there  will  hardly  be  room 
for  you  to  stand ;  and  they  will  all  sneer  at  you 
and  spit  upon  you.  But  do  not  be  sorry.  And  take 
this  cane  to  hold  between  you.  Let  your  mother 
take  it  with  one  hand  at  the  bottom,  then  the  Whit- 
lah-wid-deh's  hand,  then  her  other  hand,  and  then 
his  other  hand;  and  last  your  brother's  hand, 
your  hand,  then  his  other  hand,  and  your  other 
hand  at  the  top  of  all.  And  when  .you  say,  *  We 
are  at  the  top  of  the  mountain,'  he  must  answer, 
*  No,  we  are  down  in  the  mountain  —  at  the  bottom 
of  it.'  This  you  must  keep  saying.  Now  go,  son, 
with  the  heart  of  a  man." 

Then  the  Whit-lah-wid-deh  led  Agostin  out, 
and  the  little  bird  showed  him  the  way  down  the 
mountain. 

When  he  reached  home  it  was  the  afternoon  of 

1  Where  it  is  sacrilegious  to  make  medicine. 


THE   DROWNING    OF   PECOS  143 

the  appointed  day,  and  in  the  evening  the  medi- 
cine-making contest  for  life  or  death  was  to  come. 

In  a  little  while  the  younger  brother  arrived, 
with  his  new  clothes  and  moccasins  torn  to  shreds; 
for  he  had  traveled  far  in  a  rough  country,  without 
meeting  a  soul  from  whom  to  ask  advice. 

Agostin  called  together  the  four  other  True  Be- 
lievers, and  told  them  all  that  had  happened  and 
what  they  must  do,  giving  them  the  sacred  clothing. 

In  the  evening  they  went  to  the  estufa,  which 
was  crowded  with  the  witch-people,  so  that  they 
had  barely  room  to  stand. 

Then  the  evil-spirited  ones  began  to  make  medi- 
cine, and  turned  themselves  into  bears,  coyotes, 
crows,  owls,  and  other  animals.  When  they  were 
done,  they  said  to  the  old  woman  : 

"  Now  it  is  your  turn.  We  will  see  what  you 
can  do." 

"I  knownothingaboutthesethings/'shesaid,  "but 
I  will  do  what  I  can,  and  the  Trues  will  help  me." 

Then  she  and  the  four  young  men  took  hold  of 
the  sacred  cane  as  the  Trues  had  showed  Agostin. 

"We  are  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,"  said  he. 

"No,"  answered  his  brother,  "we  are  down  in 
the  mountain — at  the  bottom  of  it." 

This  they  said  three  times.  At  the  third  saying 
the  people  heard  on  all  sides  the  guajes  of  the 
Trues.1  At  the  same  moment  the  ladder2  was 
jerked  violently  up  out  of  the  room,  so  that  no 
one  could  get  out. 

1  The  thunder  is  said  by  the  Tee-wahn  to  be  the  sacred  dance-rattle  of 
their  gods. 

2  The  only  entrance  to  any  estufa  is  by  a  ladder  let  down  through  a  door 
in  the  roof. 


144  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

Then  the  two  brothers  repeated  their  words 
again,  and  at  the  third  saying  the  thunder  began 
to  roar  outside,  and  all  could  hear  plainly  the  sing- 
ing and  the  guajes  of  the  Trues.  It  began  to  rain 
violently,  and  the  water  poured  down  through  the 
roof-door,  and  the  lightning  stuck  its  tongue  in. 
The  brothers  kept  repeating  their  words,  and  soon 
the  water  was  knee-deep.  But  where  the  five  True 
Believers  stood,  holding  the  cane,  the  floor  was 
dusty.  Soon  the  flood  came  to  the  waists  of  the 
witch-people,  and  then  to  their  necks,  and  the 
children  were  drowning.  Then  they  cried  out  to 
the  old  woman : 

"  Truly,  mother,  your  power  is  greater  than  ours. 
We  submit." 

But  she  paid  no  attention  to  them,  and  her  sons 
continued  their  words,  and  the  water  kept  pouring 
in  until  it  touched  the  very  ceiling.  But  all  around 
the  five  it  stood  back  like  a  wall,  and  they  were  on 
dry  ground. 

At  last  all  the  evil-spirited  ones  were  drowned. 
Then  the  rain  ceased  and  the  water  departed  as 
fast  as  it  had  come.  The  ladder  came  down  through 
the  roof-door  again,  and  the  five  True  Believers 
climbed  out  and  went  to  their  homes. 

But  it  was  very  desolate,  for  they  were  the  only 
survivors.  Their  nearest  relatives  and  dearest 
friends  had  perished  with  the  other  witch-people. 
At  last  they  could  no  longer  bear  to  live  in  the 
lonely  valley,  and  they  decided  to  live  elsewhere. 
On  the  way  the  old  mother  and  one  of  the.  men 
died.  Agostin  went  to  the  pueblo  of  Cochitf,  and 
Pedro  and  the  Whit-lah-wid-deh  settled  in  the 


THE   DROWNING    OF    PECOS  145 

pueblo  of  Jemez,  where  they  are  still  living  (or 
were  in  the  spring  of  1891). 

Such  is  the  Indian  version  of  the  abandonment 
of  the  great  pueblo  which  Coronado — that  won- 
derful Spanish  explorer — found  in  1540.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  Hyo-qua-hoon,  or  people  of 
Pecos,  had  dwindled  away  by  war,  epidemics,  and 
the  like,  until  only  five  were  left ;  and  in  1 840  these 
lonely  survivors  moved  to  other  pueblos,  and  aban- 
doned their  ruined  town  forever.  But  the  story  is 
very  valuable,  not  only  for  the  glimpse  it  affords 
of  some  of  their  most  secret  beliefs,  but  also  as 
showing  how  folk-stories  of  the  most  aboriginal 
stamp  are  still  coined. 

Witchcraft  is  still  a  serious  trouble  in  all  the 
pueblos,  despite  the  efforts  of  the  medicine-men, 
whose  special  duty  it  is  to  keep  down  the  witches. 
One  little  pueblo  called  Sandia  is  dying  out — as 
many  others  have  done  before  it — because  the 
medicine-men  are  quietly  killing  those  whom  they 
suspect  of  being  witches.  In  1888  a  very  estima- 
ble Indian  woman  of  that  town  was  slain  by  them 
in  the  customary  way, — shot  through  from  side  to 
side  with  an  arrow, — and  this  form  of  execution  is 
still  practised. 

In  Isleta  they  fear  the  Americans  too  much  to 
indulge  in  witch-killing,  for  Albuquerque  is  only  a 
few  miles  away.  But  it  is  only  a  little  while  ago 
that  a  young  Isletan  who  was  accused  spent  three 
months  in  the  neck-stocks  in  our  aboriginal  prison, 
and  much  of  the  time  had  to  "ride  the  horse,"  sit- 
ting with  his  legs  crossed  upon  the  adobe  floor  and 
the  heavy  weight  of  the  stocks  pressing  him  down, 
13 


146  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

a  torture  worthy  of  the  Inquisition.  The  case  was 
kept  out  of  the  American  courts  .only  by  the  pay- 
ment of  a  large  sum  to  his  parents  by  his  accusers. 
One  whose  eyes  or  lids  look  red  is  always  re- 
garded with  suspicion  here,  for  witch-people  are 
supposed  not  to  sleep  at  night,  but  to  change 
themselves  into  animals  and  roam  over  the  world. 
Eccentric  actions  also  lay  one  open  to  accusation ; 
and  when  I  first  came  here  I  was  dangerously  near 
being  classed  with  the  witches  because,  to  amuse 
my  dusky  little  neighbors,  I  imitated  various  animal 
cries  to  their  great  edification,  but  to  the  very  se- 
rious doubt  of  their  elders.  The  fact  that  they  doubt 
whether  Americans  know  enough  to  be  first-class 
witches  was  largely  instrumental  in  saving  me  from 
serious  danger. 


OKTHCJKY 


XXII 

VERY  ancient  and  characteristic 
story  about  the  origin  of  Isleta  is 
based  on  the  historic  fact  that  part 
of  its  founders  came  from  east  of 
the  Manzano  Mountains,  from  one 
of  the  prehistoric  pueblos  whose 
ruins  are  now  barely  visible  in 
those  broad  plains. 
Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  in  one  of  those 
villages  (so  runs  the  story)  a  young  Indian  named 
Kahp-too-6o-yoo,  the  Corn-stalk  Young  Man.  He 
was  not  only  a  famous  hunter  and  a  brave  warrior 
against  the  raiding  Comanches,  but  a  great  wizard  ; 
and  to  him  the  Trues  had  given  the  power  of  the 
clouds.  When  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  willed  it,  the  glad 
rains  fell,  and  made  the  dry  fields  laugh  in  green  ; 


147 


148  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

and  without  him  no  one  could  bring  water  from 
the  sky.  His  father  was  Old-Black-Cane,  his 
mother  was  Corn-Woman,  and  his  two  sisters  were 
Yellow-Corn-Maiden,  and  Blue-Corn-Maiden. 

Kahp-too-6o-yoo  had  a  friend,  a  young  man  of 
about  the  same  age.  But,  as  is  often  true,  the 
friend  was  of  a  false  heart,  and  was  really  a  witch, 
though  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  never  dreamed  of  such  a 
thing. 

The  two  young  men  used  to  go  together  to  the 
mountains  to  get  wood,  and  always  carried  their 
bows  and  arrows,  to  kill  deer  and  antelopes,  or 
whatever  game  they  might  find. 

One  day  the  false  friend  came  to  Kahp-too-6o- 
yoo,  and  said : 

"  Friend,  let  us  go  to-morrow  for  wood,  and  to 
hunt." 

They  agreed  that  so  they  would  do.  Next  day 
they  started  before  sunrise,  and  came  presently  to 
the  spot  where  they  gathered  wood.  Just  there 
they  started  a  herd  of  deer.  Kahp-too-6o-yoo 
followed  part  of  the  herd,  which  fled  to  the  north- 
west, and  the  friend  pursued  those  that  went  south- 
west. After  a  long,  hard  chase,  Kahp-too-6o-yoo 
killed  a  deer  with  his  swift  arrows,  and  brought  it 
on  his  strong  back  to  the  place  where  they  had 
separated.  Presently  came  the  friend,  very  hot 
and  tired,  and  with  empty  hands ;  and  seeing  the 
deer,  he  was  pinched  with  jealousy. 

"  Come,  friend,"  said  Kahp-too-6o-yoo.  "It  is 
well  for  brothers  to  share  with  brothers,  Take  of 
this  deer  and  cook  and  eat ;  and  carry  a  part  to 
your  house,  as  if  you  had  killed  it  yourself." 


THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY    149 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  the  other  coldly,  as  one 
who  will  not;  but  he  did  not  accept. 

When  they  had  gathered  each  a  load  of  wood, 
and  lashed  it  with  rawhide  thongs  in  bundles  upon 
their  shoulders,  they  trudged  home — Kahp-too- 
6o-yoo  carrying  the  deer  on  top  of  his  wood.  His 
sisters  received  him  with  joy,  praising  him  as  a 
hunter;  and  the  friend  went  away  to  his  house, 
with  a  heavy  face. 

Several  different  days  when  they  went  to  the 
mountain  together,  the  very  same  thing  came  to 
pass.  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  killed  each  time  a  deer; 
and  each  time  the  friend  came  home  with  nothing, 
refusing  all  offers  to  share  as  brothers.  And  he 
grew  more  jealous  and  more  sullen  every  day. 

At  last  he  came  again  to  invite  Kahp-too-6o- 
yoo  to  go ;  but  this  time  it  was  with  an  evil  pur- 
pose that  he  asked.  Then  again  the  same  things 
happened.  Again  the  unsuccessful  friend  refused 
to  take  a  share  of  Kahp-too-6o-yoo's  deer;  and 
when  he  had  sat  long  without  a  word,  he  said: 

"  Friend  Kahp-too-6o-yoo,  now  I  will  prove  you 
if  you  are  truly  my  friend,  for  I  do  not  think  it." 

"  Surely,"  said  Kahp-too-6o-yoo,  "  if  there  is  any 
way  to  prove  myself,  I  will  do  it  gladly,  for  truly  I 
am  your  friend." 

"Then  come,  and  we  will  play  a  game  together, 
and  with  that  I  will  prove  you." 

11  It  is  well !  But  what  game  shall  we  play,  for 
here  we  have  nothing  ?  " 

Near  them  stood  a  broken  pine-tree,  with  one 
great  arm  from  its  twisted  body.  And  looking  at 
it,  the  false  friend  said : 


150  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

"I  see  nothing  but  to  play  the  gallo  race;  and 
because  we  have  no  horses1  we  will  ride  this  arm 
of  the  pine-tree — first  I  will  ride,  and  then  you." 

So  he  climbed  the  pine-tree,  and  sat  astride  the 
limb  as  upon  a  horse,  and  rode,  reaching  over  to 
the  ground  as  if  to  pick  up  the  chicken.2 

"  Now  you,"  he  said,  coming  down ;  and  Kahp- 
too-6o-yoo  climbed  the  tree  and  rode  on  the  swing- 
ing branch.  But  the  false  friend  bewitched  the 
pine,  and  suddenly  it  grew  in  a  moment  to  the 
very  sky,  carrying  Kahp-too-6o-yoo. 

"  We  do  this  to  one  another,"  taunted  the  false 
friend,  as  the  tree  shot  up ;  and  taking  the  wood, 
and  the  deer  which  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  had  killed, 
he  w7ent  to  the  village.  There  the  sisters  met  him, 
and  asked : 

"  Where  is  our  brother?  " 

"  Truly  I  know  not,  for  he  went  northwest  and 
I  southwest;  and  though  I  waited  long  at  the 
meeting-place,  he  did  not  come.  Probably  he  will 
soon  return.  But  take  of  this  deer  which  I  killed, 
for  sisters  should  share  the  labors  of  brothers." 

But  the  girls  would  take  no  meat,  and  went 
home  sorrowful. 

Time  went  on,  and  still  there  was  no  Kahp-too- 
6o-yoo.  His  sisters  and  his  old  parents  wept 
always,  and  all  the  village  was  sad.  And  soon 
the  crops  grew  yellow  in  the  fields,  and  the  springs 
failed,  and  the  animals  walked  like  weary  shadows ; 
for  Kahp-too-6o-yoo,  he  who  had  the  power  of  the 

1  This  mention  of  the  horse  is,  of  course,  modern.     I  think  it  is  an  inter- 
polation.    The  rest  of  the  story  bears  traces  of  great  antiquity. 

2  In  imitation  of  one  of  the  most  popular  and  exciting  sports  of  the  South- 
western Indians  and  Mexicans. 


THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY    151 

clouds,  was  gone,  and  there  was  no  rain.  And 
then  perished  all  that  is  green ;  the  animals  fell  in 
the  brown  fields ;  and  the  gaunt  people  who  sat  to 
warm  themselves  in  the  sun  began  to  die  there 
where  they  sat.  At  last  the  poor  old  man  said  to 
his  daughters : 

"  Little  daughters,  prepare  food,  for  again  we 
will  go  to  look  for  your  brother." 

The  girls  made  cakes  of  the  blue  corn-meal  for 
the  journey ;  and  on  the  fourth  day  they  started. 
Old-Black-Cane  hobbled  to  the  south,  his  wife  to 
the  east,  the  elder  girl  to  the  north,  and  the 
younger  to  the  west. 

For  a  great  distance  they  traveled ;  and  at  last 
Blue-Corn-Maiden,  who  was  in  the  north,  heard  a 
far,  faint  song.  It  was  so  little  that  she  thought 
it  must  be  imaginary ;  but  she  stopped  to  listen, 
and  softly,  softly  it  came  again : 

T6-ai-f6o-ni-hl6o-hlim, 
Eng-l<?hai  Khdhm  ; 
Ee-eh-boori-koon-hlee-oh, 
Ing-Khai  Khdhm. 
Ah-ee-di,  ah-hee-di, 
Aim  / 

(Old-Black-Cane 
My  father  is  called ; 
Corn- Woman 
My  mother  is  called. 
Ah-ee-di,  ah-hee-di, 
Aim  /) 

When  she  heard  this,  Blue-Corn-Maiden  ran 
until  she  came  to  her  sister,  and  cried: 


152  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

"  Sister !  Sister !  I  think  I  hear  our  brother  some- 
where in  captivity.  Listen  !  " 

Trembling,  they  listened  ;  and  again  the  song- 
came  floating  to  them,  so  soft,  so  sad  that  they 
wept  —  as  to  this  day  their  people  weep  when  a 
white-haired  old  man,  filled  with  the  memories  of 
Kahp-too-6o-yoo,  sings  that  plaintive  melody. 

"Surely  it  is  our  brother!"  they  cried;  and  off 
they  went  running  to  find  their  parents.  And 
when  all  listened  together,  again  they  heard  the 
song. 

"Oh,  my  son!"  cried  the  poor  old  woman,  "in 
what  captivity  do  you  find  yourself?  True  it  is 
that  your  father  is  Old-Black-Cane,  and  I,  your 
mother,  am  called  Corn-Woman.  But  why  do  you 
sing  thus  ?  " 

Then  all  four  of  them  began  to  follow  the  song, 
and  at  last  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the  sky-reach- 
ing pine ;  but  they  could  see  nothing  of  Kahp-too- 
6o-yoo,  nor  could  their  cries  reach  him.  There,  on 
the  ground,  were  his  bow  and  arrows,  with  strings 
and  feathers  eaten  away  by  time ;  and  there  was 
his  pack  of  wood,  tied  with  the  rawhide  thong, 
ready  to  be  taken  home.  But  after  they  had 
searched  everywhere,  they  could  not  find  Kahp- 
too-6o-yoo;  and  finally  they  went  home  heavy  at 
heart. 

At  last  it  happened  that  P'ah-wha-yoo-6o-deh, 
the  Little  Black  Ant,  took  a  journey  and  went  up 
the  bewitched  pine,  even  to  its  top  in  the  sky. 
When  he  found  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  there  a  prisoner, 
the  Little  Black  Ant  was  astonished,  and  said: 

"  GreakKah-bdy-dek  [Man  of  Power],  how  comes 


SOUTH,  £AST,   NORTH,    AND    WEST    IN    SEARCH    OF    KAHP-TOO-OO-YOO. 


THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY    155 

it  that  you  are  up  here  in  such  a  condition,  while 
your  people  at  home  are  suffering  and  dying  for 
rain,  and  few  are  left  to  meet  you  if  you  return  ? 
Are  you  here  of  your  free  will  ?  " 

"No,"  groaned  Kahp-too-6o-yoo ;  "I  am  here 
because  of  the  jealousy  of  him  who  was  as  my 
brother,  with  whom  I  shared  my  food  and  labor, 
whose  home  was  my  home,  and  my  home  his.  He 
is  the  cause,  for  he  was  jealous  and  bewitched  me 
hither.  And  now  I  am  dying  of  famine." 

"  If  that  is  so,"  said  the  Little  Black  Ant,  "  I  will 
be  the  one  to  help  you  " ;  and  he  ran  down  to  the 
world  as  fast  as  he  could.  When  he  got  there  he 
sent  out  the  crier  to  summon  all  his  nation,  and 
also  that  of  the  In-toon,  the  Big  Red  Ants.  Soon 
all  the  armies  of  the  Little  Black  Ants  and  the  Big 
Red  Ants  met  at  the  foot  of  the  pine,  and  held  a 
council.  They  smoked  the  weer  and  deliberated 
what  should  be  done. 

"You  Big  Red  Ants  are  stronger  than  we  who 
are  small,"  said  the  War-Captain  of  the  Little 
Black  Ants,  "and  for  that  you  ought  to  take  the 
top  of  the  tree  to  work." 

"Een-dah/"  (No)  said  the  War-Captain  of  the 
Big  Red  Ants.  "  If  you  think  we  are  the  stronger, 
give  us  the  bottom,  where  we  can  work  more,  and 
you  go  to  the  top." 

So  it  was  agreed,  and  the  captains  made  their 
armies  ready.  But  first  the  Little  Black  Ants  got 
the  cup  of  an  acorn,  and  mixed  in  it  corn-meal  and 
water  and  honey,  and  carried  it  up  the  tree.  They 
were  so  many  that  they  covered  its  trunk  all  the 
way  to  the  sky. 


I56 


TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 


When    Kahp-too-6o-yoo    saw,   his    heart    was 
heavy,  and  he  thought:  "  But  what  good  will  that 

very  little 
do  me,  for 
I  am  dying  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst?" 
"Nay,  friend,"  an- 
swered the  Captain 
of  the  Little  Black 
Ants,  who  knew  his 
thought.  "  A  person 
should  not  think  so.  This 
little  is  enough,  and  there 
will  be  some  left." 
And  it  was  so;  for  when  Kahp- 
too-6o-yoo  had  eaten  all  he  could, 
the  acorn-cup  was  still  nearly  full. 
Then  the  ants  carried  the  cup  to 
the  ground  and  came  back  to  him. 
"  Now,  friend,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain, (iwe  will  do  our  best. 
But  now  you  must  shut  your 
eyes  till  I  say  'Ahw!' 
Kahp-too-6o-yoo  shut  his  eyes, 
and  the  Captain  sent  signals  down 
to  those  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  And 
the  Little  Black  Ants  above  put  their 
feet  against  the  sky  and  pushed  with 
all  their  might  on  the  top  of  the  pine ; 
and  the  Big  Red  Ants  below  caught  the 
trunk  and  pulled  as  hard  as  they  could ;  and  the 
very  first  tug  drove  the  great  pine  a  quarter  of  its 
length  into  the  earth. 


THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY    157 

"Ahw  !  "  shouted  the  Captain  of  the  Little  Black 
Ants,  and  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  opened  his  eyes;  but 
he  could  see  nothing  below. 

"Shut  your  eyes  again,"  said  the  Captain,  giv- 
ing the  signal.  Again  the  Little  Black  Ants 
pushed  mightily  against  the  sky,  and  the  Big  Red 
Ants  pulled  mightily  from  below ;  and  the  pine  was 
driven  another  fourth  of  its  length  into  the  earth. 

"Akwf  "  cried  the  Captain ;  and  when  Kahp-too- 
6o-yoo  opened  his  eyes  he  could  just  see  the  big, 
brown  Vorld. 

Again  he  closed  his  eyes.  There  was  another 
great  push  and  pull,  and  only  a  quarter  of  the  pine 
was  left  above  the  ground.  Now  Kahp-too-6o-yoo 
could  see,  far  below,  the  parched  fields  strewn  with 
dead  animals,  and  his  own  village  full  of  dying 
people. 

Again  the  Little  Black  Ants  pushed  and  the  Big 
Red  Ants  pulled,  and  this  time  the  tree  was  driven 
clear  out  of  sight,  and  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  was  left 
sitting  on  the  ground.  He  hastily  made  a  bow  and 
arrows  and  soon  killed  a  fat  deer,  which  he  brought 
and  divided  among  the  Little  Black  Ants  and  the 
Big  Red  Ants,  thanking  them  for  their  kindness. 

Then  he  made  all  his  clothing  to  be  new,  for  he 
had  been  four  years  a  prisoner  in  the  bewitched 
tree,  and  was  all  in  rags.  Making  for  himself 
a  flute  from  the  bark  of  a  young  tree,  he  played 
upon  it  as  he  strode  homeward  and  sang  : 

Kahp-too-6o-yoo  tu-mah-quce, 
Nah-choor  kwe -shay -tin, 
Nah-shur  kwe-shay-tin  ; 
Kahp-too-6o-yoo  tu-mah-quee  / 
14 


I58 


TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 


(Kahp-too-6o-yoo  has  come  to  life  again, 
Is  back  to  his  home  coming, 
Blowing  the  yellow  and  the  blue; 
Kahp-too-6o-yoo  has  come  to  life  again!) 

As  he  walked  and  sang,   the  forgotten  clouds 
came  over  him,  and  the  soft  rain  began  to  fall,  and 

all  was  green  and  good.  But 
only  so  far  as  his  voice  reached 
came  the  rain  ;  and  beyond  all 
was  still  death  and  drought. 
When  he  came  to  the  end  of 
the  wet,  he  played  and  sang 
again;  and  again  the  rain  fell 
as  far  as  his  voice  was  heard. 
This  time  the  Fool-Boy,  who 
was  wandering  outside  the  dy- 
ing village,  saw  the  far  storm 
and  heard  the  singing.  He 
ran  to  tell  Kahp-too-6o-yoo's 
parents;  but  nobody  would 
believe  a  Foolish,  and  they 
sent  him  away. 

When  the  Fool- Boy  went 
out  again,  the  rain  fell  on  him 
and  gave  him  strength,  and 
he  came  running  a  second 
time  to  tell.  Then  the  sisters 
came  out  of  the  house  and  saw 
the  rain  and  heard  the  song ; 
and  they  cried  for  joy,  and 
told  their  parents  to  rise  and 
meet  him.  But  the  poor  old  people  were  dying  of 
weakness,  and  could  not  rise ;  and  the  sisters  went 


KAHP-TOO-OO-YOO 
CALLING    THE    RAIN. 


THE  ANTS  THAT  PUSHED  ON  THE  SKY    159 

alone.  When  they  met  him  they  fell  on  their  knees, 
weeping ;  but  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  lifted  them  up  and 
blessed  them,  gave  an  ear  of  blue  corn  to  Blue- 
Corn-Maiden,  and  to  Yellow-Corn-Maiden  an  ear 
of  yellow  corn,  and  brought  them  home. 

As  he  sang  again,  the  rain  fell  in  the  village ; 
and  when  it  touched  the  pinched  faces  of  the  dead 
they  sat  up  and  opened  their  mouths  to  catch  it. 
And  the  dying  crawled  out  to  drink,  and  were 
strong  again ;  and  the  withered  fields  grew  green 
and  glad. 

When  they  came  to  the  house,  Kahp-too-6o-yoo 
blessed  his  parents,  and  then  said : 

"  Little  sisters,  give  us  to  eat." 

But  they  answered,  "  How  ?  For  you  have  been 
gone  these  four  years,  and  there  was  none  to  give 
us  rain.  We  planted,  but  nothing  came,  and  to- 
day we  ate  the  last  grain." 

"  Nay,  little  sisters,"  he  said.  "  A  person  should 
not  think  so.  Look  now  in  the  store-rooms,  if 
there  be  not  something  there." 

"  But  we  have  looked  and  looked,  and  turned 
over  everything  to  try  to  find  one  grain." 

"Yet  look  once  more,"  he  said;  and  when  they 
opened  the  door,  lo !  there  was  the  store-room 
piled  to  the  roof  with  corn,  and  another  room  was 
full  of  wheat.  Then  they  cried  for  joy,  and  began  to 
roast  the  blue  ears,  for  they  were  dying  of  hunger. 

At  the  sweet  smell  of  the  roasting  corn  came 
the  starving  neighbors,  crowding  at  the  door,  and 
crying : 

"O  Kahp-too-6o-yoo !  Give  us  to  taste  one 
grain  of  corn,  and  then  we  will  go  home  and  die/' 


160  T£E-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

But  Kahp-too-6o-yoo  handed  to  each  an  ear, 
and  said : 

"  Fathers,  brothers,  go  now  to  your  own  houses, 
for  there  you  will  find  corn. as  much  as  here."  And 
when  they  went,  it  was  so.  All  began  to  roast 
corn  and  to  eat ;  and  the  dead  in  the  houses  awoke 
and  were  strong  again,  and  all  the  village  sang 
and  danced. 

From  that  time  there  was  plenty  of  rain,  for  he 
who  had  the  power  of  the  clouds  was  at  home 
again.  In  the  spring  the  people  planted,  and  in 
the  fall  the  crops  were  so  great  that  all  the  town 
could  not  hold  them ;  so  that  which  was  left  they 
brought  to  Shee-eh-whib-bak  (Isleta),  where  we 
enjoy  it  to  this  day. 

As  for  the  false  friend,  he  died  of  shame  in  his 
house,  not  daring  to  come  out;  and  no  one  wept 
for  him. 


XXIII 

THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD  N'T    KEEP    SUNDAY 

AMONG  the  folk-stories  of  the  Pueblos  which 
XJL  show  at  once  that  they  are  not  of  such  an- 
tiquity as  the  rest,  is  this.  It  is  plain  that  the 
story  is  post-Spanish — that  it  has  been  invented 
within  the  last  three  hundred  and  fifty  years.  That 
seems  to  us  a  long  time  to  go  back  in  the  -history  of 
America,  but  to  the  Pueblos  it  is  a  trifling  dot  on 
the  long  line  of  their  antiquity. 

The  following  tale  is  an  amusing  instance  of  the 
fashion  in  which  some  of  the  myth-makers  have 
mixed  things.  It  is  an  Indian  fairy  tale,  but  with 
a  Christian  moral — which  was  learned  from  the 
noble  and  effective  Spanish  missionaries  who  toiled 
here. 

Once  upon  a  time,  in  a  pueblo  south  of  Isleta, — 
one  of  its  old  colonies  known  as  P'ah-que-too-ai, 
the  Rainbow  Town,  but  deserted  long  ago, — there 
were  two  Indians  who  were  great  friends.  They 
started  in  life  with  equal  prospects,  married  young, 
and  settled  in  the  same  town.  But  though  friends, 
their  natures  were  very  different.  One  was  a  good 
man  in  his  heart,  and  the  other  was  bad.  The 
good  man  always  observed  Sunday,  but  the  other 


161 


1 62  T£E-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

worked  every  day.  The  good  man  had  better  luck 
than  the  bad ;  and  the  latter  became  jealous.  At 
last  he  said :  "  Friend,  tell  me,  why  is  it  that  you 
always  make  more  success  than  I  ? " 

"  Perhaps,"  answered  Good,  "  because  I  keep 
Sunday,  but  work  hard  all  the  other  days  af  the 
week,  while  you  work  every  day." 

Time  went  on,  and  both  the  friends  accumu- 
lated considerable  wealth  in  servants,  stock,  and 
ornaments.  The  good  man  let  his  servants  rest 
on  Sunday,  but  the  bad  made  his  work  every  day, 
and  did  not  even  give  them  time  to  smoke.  Good 
prospered  most,  and  had  more  servants,  more 
stock,  and  more  ornaments  than  Bad,  who  grew 
more  jealous  daily.  At  last  Bad  said  to  Good : 
"Friend,  you  say  that  you  have  good  luck  because 
you  keep  Sunday,  but  I  '11  bet  I  am  right  in  not 
keeping  it." 

"No,"  replied  Good;  "I'll  bet  /  am  right,  and 
that  Sunday  ought  to  be  kept." 

"Then  I  will  bet  all  my  stock  against  all  your 
stock,  and  all  my  lands  against  your  lands,  and 
everything  we  have  except  our  wives.  To-mor- 
row, be  ready  about  breakfast-time,  and  we  will  go 
out  into  the  public  road  and  ask  the  first  three 
men  we  meet  which  of  us  is  right.  And  whichever 
gets  the  voice  of  the  majority,  he  shall  be  the  win- 
ner, and  shall  take  all  that  is  of  the  other." 

Good  agreed, — for  an  Indian  cannot  back  out 
of  a  challenge, — and  so  the  next  morning  the  two 
friends  took  the  public  road.  In  a  little  while  they 
met  a  man,  and  said  to  him:  "Friend,  we  want 
your  voice.  Which  of  us  is  right,  the  one  who 


THE  MAN   WHO   WOULD  N'T   KEEP   SUNDAY     163 

observes  Sunday  and  lets  his  peons  rest  then,  or 
he  who  does  not  ? " 

Now  it  happened  that  this  person  was  not  a 
man,  but  an  old  devil  who  was  taking  a  walk  in 
human  form;  and  he  promptly  answered :  "With- 
out doubt  he  is  right  who  does  not  keep  Sunday," 
and  went  his  road. 

"  Aha !  "  said  Bad  to  Good.  "  You  see  I  got  the 
first  voice." 

They  started  on  again  and  soon  met  another 
man,  to  whom  they  asked  the  same.  But  it  was 
the  same  old  devil,  and  he  gave  them  the  same 
answer. 

"Aha!"  said  Bad.  "Now  I  have  the  second 
voice,  you  see." 

Presently  they  met  a  third  man,  and  asked  him 
the  same,  and  he  answered  the  same ;  for  it  was 
the  same  old  devil  in  another  body. 

"Aha!"  said  Bad,  "I  am  the  winner!  Get  down 
from  that  burro,  and  let  me  have  her  and  her  colt, 
for  now  all  that  was  yours  is  mine,  as  we  agreed." 

Good  got  down  from  the  burro  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  for  he  was  thinking  of  his  wife,  and  said: 

"Now,  friend,  having  gained  all,  you  are  going 
back  to  our  home ;  but  I  shall  not.  Tell  my  wife 
that  I  am  going  to  the  next  pueblo  to  seek  work, 
and  that  I  will  not  be  back  until  I  have  earned  as 
much  as  I  have  lost  in  this  bet,  or  more ;  but  tell 
her  not  to  be  sad." 

Then  they  shook  hands  and  parted,  Bad  riding 
home  full  of  joy,  and  Good  trudging  off  through 
the  sand  toward  Isleta,  which  was  the  largest  and 
wealthiest  pueblo  of  the  tribe.  On  the  road  night 


1 64  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

overtook  him,  and  seeing  an  abandoned  house  in 
a  field,  he  hastened  to  it  for  shelter  from  the  cold 
of  night.  A  portion  of  the  roof  still  remained,  with 
the  fogon  (corner  fireplace)  and  chimney,  and  he 
began  to  brush  a  place  to  lie  down.  Now  it  hap- 
pened that  this  house  was  the  place  where  all  the 
devils  of  that  country  used  to  meet  at  night ;  and 
before  Good  went  to  sleep  he  heard  noises  of  the 
devils  coming.  He  was  very  much  frightened,  and 
to  hide  himself  climbed  up  into  the  chimney  and 
stood  upon  its  crosspiece. 

In  a  moment  the  devils  began  to  arrive  singly^or 
in  pairs ;  and  at  last  came  the  old  devil  —  the  very 
one  who  had  played  the  trick  on  Good.  He  called 
the  meeting  to  order,  and  asked  them  what  they 
had  been  doing.  A  young  devil  arose  and  said : 

"The  next  pueblo  is  the  largest  and  wealthiest 
of  this  nation.  For  three  weeks  now,  all  its  people, 
and  all  the  people  along  that  river,  have  been 
working  at  the  spring  from  which  the  river  comes, 
but  have  not  been  able  to  undo  me.  Three  weeks 
ago  I  came  to  that  spring  and  thought  how  nice  it 
would  be  to  stop  up  the  spring,  and  how  the  people 
would  swear  if  their  gods  did  not  send  rain.  So  I 
stuck  a  big  stone  in  the  spring  and  stopped  all  the 
water ;  and  ever  since,  the  water  will  not  come  out, 
and  the  people  work  in  vain,  and  they  are  dying  of 
thirst,  and  all  their  stock.  Now  they  will  either 
forsake  their  gods  and  serve  us,  or  die  like  the 
animals,  thinking  nothing  of  their  past  or  future." 

"  Good !  "  said  the  old  devil,  rubbing  his  hands. 
"  You  have  done  well !  But  tell  me  —  is  there  no 
way  to  open  the  spring?  " 


THE   MAN   WHO   WOULD  N'T   KEEP   SUNDAY     165 

"  There  is  only  one  way,"  said  the  young  devil, 
"and  one  man  could  do  that  —  but  they  will  never 
think  of  it.  If  a  man  took  a  long  stick,  shaped  like 
a  sword,  and  went  and  stood  on  top  of  the  stone, 
and  struck  it  with  the  full  length  of  the  stick  first 
east  and  west,  and  then  north  and  south,  the  water 
would  come  out  so  hard  that  the  stone  would  be 
thrown  out  upon  the  banks  and  the  spring  could 
never  be  stopped  again." 

"Is  that  the  only  way?"  said  the  old  devil.  "You 
have  done  very  well,  for  they  certainly  will  never 
think  to  do  that.  Now  for  the  next." 

Then  another  young  devil  arose  and  reported  this : 

"I,  too,  have  done  something.  In  the  pueblo 
across  the  mountain  I  have  the  daughter  of  the 
wealthiest  man  sick  in  bed,  and  she  will  never  get 
well.  All  the  medicine-men  have  tried  in  vain  to 
cure  her.  She,  too,  will  be  ours." 

"Good!"  said  the  old  devil.  "But  is  there  no 
way  in  which  any  one  may  cure  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  one  way,  but  they  never  will  think 
of  that.  If  a  person  should  carry  her  to  the  door  just 
as  the  sun  is  rising,  and  hold  her  so  that  its  very 
first  rays  would  touch  the  top  of  her  head,  she  would 
be  well  at  once,  and  never  could  be  made  sick  again." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  old  devil,  "they  will 
never  think  of  that.  You  have  done  well." 

Just  then  a  rooster  crowed,  and  the  old  devil 
cried,  "You  have  a  road!" — which  means,  "an 
adjournment  is  in  order."  All  the  devils  hurried 
away ;  and  when  they  were  gone,  poor  Good 
crawled  down  from  the  chimney  half  dead  with 
fright,  and  hurried  on  toward  Isleta.  When  he 


1 66  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

got  there  he  found  the  people  in  great  trouble,  for 
their  crops  were  withering  and  their  cattle  dying 
for  want  of  water. 

"I  see,"  thought  Good  to  himself,  "that  these 
devils  told  the  truth  about  one  thing,  and  so 
perhaps  they  did  about  all.  I-  will  try  to  undo 
them,  even  if  I  fail."  Going  to  the  Cacique  he 
asked  what  they  would  give  him  if  he  would  open 
the  spring.  The  Cacique  told  \\\z  principales,  and 
they  held  a  junta,  and  decided  to  let  the  stranger 
name  his  own  price. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  will  do  this  if  you  will  give 
me  half  the  value  of  the  whole  village." 

They  agreed,  and  asked  how  many  men  he 
would  need  to  help  him,  and  when  he  would  begin. 

"  I  need  no  men.  Lend  me  only  a  hard  stick 
the  length  of  my  outstretched  arms,  and  a  horse." 

These  were  given  him,  and  he  went  to  the  spring 
alone.  Leaping  upon  the  stone  he  struck  it  with 
the  full  length  of  the  stick  east  and  west,  and  then 
north  and  south,  and  sprang  nimbly  to  the  bank. 
At  that  very  instant  the  water  rushed  out  harder 
than  it  had  ever  done.  All  the  people  and  cattle 
along  the  river  came  to  the  banks  and  drank  and 
revived.  They  began  to  irrigate  their  fields  again, 
and  the  dying  crops  grew  green.1  When  Good  got 
back  to  the  pueblo,  half  of  all  the  grain  and  money 

1  Here,  as  in  several  other  stories  in  this  volume,  is  a  touch  of  the  arid 
character  of  the  Southwest.  The  country  is  always  so  dry  that  irrigation  is 
necessary  in  farming,  and  in  very  bad  years  the  streams  have  not  water  even 
for  that.  The  Rio  Grande  itself  frequently  disappears  in  September  between 
certain  points  in  its  course  in  sandy  New  Mexico;  and  within  ten  miles  below 
Isleta  I  have  seen  its  bed  bone-dry.  Ignorance  of  this  fact  has  caused  serious 
blunders  on  the  part  of  historians  unfamiliar  with  the  country  of  which  they 
wrote. 


THE  MAN   WHO    WOULD  N'T   KEEP   SUNDAY     167 

and  dresses  and  ornaments  were  piled  up  in  a 
huge  pile  waiting  for  him,  and  half  the  horses  and 
cattle  and  sheep  were  waiting  in  big  herds.  It 
was  so  that  he  had  to  hire  a  great  many  men  to 
help  him  home  with  his  wealth,  which  was  more 
than  any  one  person  ever  had  before.  He  ap- 
pointed a  mayordomo  to  take  charge  of  this  cara- 
van, and  to  meet  him  at  a  certain  point  on  the  way 
home.  He  himself,  taking  a  horse,  rode  away  at 
once  to  the  other  pueblo,  where  the  rich  man's 
daughter  was  sick.  Arriving  at  nightfall,  he 
stopped  at  the  house  of  an  old  woman.  While  he 
ate,  she  told  him  how  sad  was  all  the  village ;  for 
the  girl  who  had  been  so  kind  to  all  was  dying. 

" But," said  he,  "I  can  cure  her." 

** In-dah,"  said  the  crone;  "for  all  the  medicine- 
men have  tried  vainly,  and  how  shall  you  ?  " 

"But  I  can,"  he  insisted;  and  at  last  the  old 
woman  went  to  the  rich  man,  and  said  there  was  a 
stranger  at  her  house  who  was  sure  he  could  cure 
the  girl. 

The  rico  said :  "  Go  and  tell  him  to  come  here 
quickly,"  and  the  old  woman  did  so.  When  Good 
came,  the  rich  man  said  :  "  Are  you  he  who  says 
he  can  cure  my  daughter  ? " 

"I  am  the  one." 

"  For  how  much  will  you  cure  her?" 

"  What  will  you  give  ?  " 

"  Half  of  all  I  have,  which  is  much." 

"  It  is  well.  To-morrow  be  ready,  for  I  will 
come  just  before  the  sun." 

In  the  blue  of  the  morning  Good  came  and 
waked  the  girl,  and  carried  her  to  the  door.  In  a 


1 68  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

moment  came  the  sun,  and  its  first  ray  fell  upon 
her  bent  head.  In  an  instant  she  was  perfectly 
well,  and  stronger  and  prettier  than  ever. 

That  very  day  her  father  gladly  divided  all  his 
wealth  into  two  equal  shares,  and  gave  half  to 
Good,  who  again  had  to  hire  many  cow-boys'  and 
men  with  carretas  to  help  him  transport  all  this. 
At  the  appointed  spot  he  found  his  mayordomo; 
and  putting  all  the  stock  together,  with  many 
herders,  and  all  the  wagons  full  of  corn  and  dresses 
and  ornaments  and  money  together,  started  home- 
ward, sending  ahead  a  messenger  on  a  beautiful 
horse  to  apprise  his  wife. 

When  the  jealous  Bad  saw  this  fine  horse  going 
to  the  house  of  his  friend,  he  ran  over  to  see  what 
it  meant;  and  while  he  was  still  there,  Good  ar- 
rived with  all  his  wealth.  Filled  with  envy,  Bad 
asked  him  where  he  had  got  all  this ;  and  Good 
told  the  whole  story. 

"Well,"  said  Bad,  "I  will  go  there  too,  and  per- 
haps I  will  hear  something."  So  off  he  rode  on  the 
burro  he  had  won  from  Good,  till  he  came  to  the 
deserted  house,  and  climbed  up  in  the  chimney. 

Soon  the  devils  met,  and  the  two  young  ones 
told  their  chief  that  the  spring  had  been  opened 
and  the  girl  cured,  and  that  neither  could  ever  be 
bewitched  again. 

"  Somebody  must  have  listened  to  us  last  night," 
said  the  old  devil,  greatly  troubled.  "  Search  the 
house."  In  a  little  while  they  found  the  jealous 
friend  in  the  chimney,  and  supposing  him  to  be  the 
one  who  had  undone  them,  without  mercy  puffed 
him  to  the  place  where  devils  live. 


XXIV 

THE    BRAVE    BOBTAILS 

WHEN  it  came  old  Anastacio's  turn,  one 
night,  to  tell  a  story  to  the  waiting  circle,  it 
was  s'everal  minutes  before  he  responded  to  the 
quaint  summons ;  and  at  last  Lorenso  repeated : 
"There  is  a  tail  to  you,  compadre  Anastacio!" 
The  words  seemed  to  remind  him  of  something; 
for  he  turned  to  his  fat  grandson,  and  said : 

"Juan!  Knowest  thou  why  the  Bear  and  the 
Badger  have  short  tails?  For  once  they  had  them 
long  as  Keem-ee-deh,  the  Mountain  Lion.  In-dahf 
Then  I  will  tell  thee." 

Once  in  the  Days  of  the  Old,  it  was  that  a  young 
man  lived  here  in  Shee-eh-whib-bak  whom  they 
called  T'hoor-hloh-ah,  the  Arrow  of  the  Sun.  He 
was  not  of  the  Tee-wahn,  but  a  Ute,  who  was 
taken  in  war  while  yet  a  child.  When  the  war- 
riors brought  him  here,  a  Grandmother  who  was 
very  poor  took  him  for  her  son,  and  reared  him, 
loving  him  greatly,  and  teaching  him  all  the  works 
of  men.  Coming  to  be  a  young  man,  he  was  a 
mighty  hunter ;  but  so  good  in  his  heart  that  he 
loved  the  animals  as  brothers,  and  they  all  loved 

15  169 


i;o  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

him.  When  he  went  out  to  hunt,  the  first  game  he 
killed  he  always  dressed  and  left  there  for  his  an- 
imal-friends to  eat.  Sometimes  it  was  Keem-ee- 
deh,  king  of  the  four-feet,  who  came  to  the  feast 
Sun-Arrow  had  made;  and  sometimes  Kahr-nai- 
deh,  the  Badger,  who  is  best  of  all  to  dig,  and  who 
showed  Those  of  Old  how  to  make  their  caves; 
and  sometimes  the  smaller  ones.  They  were  all 
grateful ;  for  no  other  was  so  kind  to  feed  them. 

Now  the  Grandmother  would  never  let  Sun- 
Arrow  go  to  war,  fearing  that  he  would  be  killed ; 
and  all  the  other  young  men  laughed  at  him,  be- 
cause he  had  never  taken  the  sacred  oak-bark. 
And  when  the  others  danced  the  great  round- 
dance,  he  had  to  stand  alone.  So  he  was  ashamed, 
and  vowed  that  he  would  prove  himself  a  man ; 
and  taking  secretly  his  bow  and  arrows  and  his 
thunder-knife,  he  went  away  by  night  alone,  and 
crossed  the  Eagle-Feather  Mountains. 

Now  in  that  time  there  was  always  great  war 
with  the  Comanches,  who  lived  in  the  plains. 
They  came  often  across  the  mountains  and  at- 
tacked Isletaby  night,  killing  many  people.  Their 
chief  was  P'ee-ku-ee-fa-yid-deh,  or  Red  Scalp,  the 
strongest  and  largest  and  bravest  of  men.  For 
many  years  all  the  warriors  of  Isleta  had  tried  to 
kill  him,  for  he  was  the  head  of  the  war ;  but  he 
slew  all  who  came  against  him.  He  was  very 
brave,  and  painted  his  scalp  red  with  pdh-ree,  so 
that  he  might  be  known  from  far;  and  left  his 
scalp-lock  very  long,  and  braided  it  neatly,  so  that 
an  enemy  might  grasp  it  well. 

Now  Sun- Arrow  met  this  great  warrior;    and 


THE   BRAVE   BOBTAILS  171 

with  the  help  of  an  old  Spider-woman,1  slew  him 
and  took  his  scalp.  When  the  people  of  Isleta 
saw  Sun- Arrow  returning,  the  young  men  began  to 
laugh  and  say:  "Va!  T'hoor-hloh-ah  has  gone  to 
make  war  again  on  the  rabbits ! ' 

But  when  he  came  into  the  plaza,  saying  noth- 
ing, and  they  saw  that  oak-bark  which  all  knew, 
all  cried  out:  "  Come  and  look  !  For  here  is  Sun- 
Arrow,  who  was  laughed  at  —  and  now  he  has 
brought  the  bark  of  Red  Scalp,  whom  our  bravest 
have  tried  in  vain  to  kill." 

So  when  he  had  taken  the  scalp  to  the  Cacique, 
and  they  had  had  the  round-dance,  and  the  days 
of  purification  were  over,  they  called  Sun-Arrow 
the  greatest  warrior  of  the  Tee-wahn,  and  made 
him  second  to  the  Cacique.  Then  all  who  had 
daughters  looked  at  him  with  good  eyes,  and  all 
the  maidens  wished  for  so  brave  a  husband.  But 
he  saw  none  of  them,  except  the  youngest  daughter 
of  the  Cacique;  for  he  loved  her.  When  the  Grand- 
mother had  spoken  to  the  Cacique,  and  it  was  well, 
they  brought  the  young  people  together,  and  gave 
them  to  eat  of  the  betrothal  corn  — to  Sun-Arrow 
an  ear  of  the  blue  corn,  and  to  her  an  ear  of  the 
white  corn,  because  the  hearts  of  maidens  are 
whiter  than  those  of  men.  When  both  had  eaten 
the  raw  corn,  every  seed  of  it,  the  old  folks  said : 
"  It  is  well !  For  truly  they  love  each  other.  And 
now  let  them  run  the  marrying-race." 

Then  all  the  people  gathered  yonder  where  are 
the  ashes  of  the  evil-hearted  ones  who  were  burned 
when  Antelope  Boy  won  for  his  people.  And  the 

1  About  equivalent  to  our  "  fairy  godmother," 


i;2  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

elders  marked  a  course,  as  of  three  miles,  from 
there  to  the  sacred  sand-hill  beside  the  Ku-mai. 
When  they  said  the  word,  Sun-Arrow  and  the  girl 
went  running  like  young  antelope,  side  by  side. 
Up  to  the  Place  of  the  Bell  they  ran,  and  turned 
back  running ;  and  when  they  came  to  the  people, 
the  girl  was  a  little  in  front,  and  all  cried : 

"It  is  well!  For  now  Ee-eh-chah  has  won  a 
husband,  and  she  shall  always  be  honored  in  her 
own  house." 

So  they  were  married,  and  the  Cacique  blessed 
them.  They  made  a  house  by  the  plaza,1  and  Sun- 
Arrow  was  given  of  the  fields,  that  he  might  plant. 

But  of  the  maidens  there  was  one  who  did  not 
forgive  Sun- Arrow  that  he  would  not  look  at  her ; 
and  in  her  heart  she  thought  to  pay  him.  So  she 
went  to  a  Spider- woman,2  and  said:  "  Grand- 
mother, help  me !  For  this  young  man  despised 
me,  and  now  I  will  punish  him." 

Then  the  Spider-woman  made  an  accursed 
prayer-stick  of  the  feathers  of  the  woodpecker, 
and  spoke  to  the  Ghosts,  and  said  to  the  girl : 

"  It  is  well,  daughter !  For  I  am  the  one  that 
will  help  you.  Take  only  this  Toad,  and  bury  it  in 
your  floor,  this  way,  and  then  ask  T'hoor-hloh-ah 
to  come  to  your  house." 

The  girl  made  a  hole  in  her  floor,  and  buried 
P'ah-foo-ee-deh,  the  Toad.  Then  she  went  to  Sun- 
Arrow  and  said :  "  Friend  T'hoor-hloh-ah,  come  to 
my  house  a  little ;  for  I  have  to  talk  to  you." 

But  when  Sun-Arrow  sat  down  in  her  house,  his 

1  Public  square  in  the  center  of  the  pueblo. 
2  Here  equivalent  to  a  witch. 


THE   BRAVE   BOBTAILS  173 

feet  were  upon  the  floor  over  the  hole;  and  in  a 
moment  the  Toad  grew  very  great,  and  began  to 
swallow  him  by  the  feet.  Sun-Arrow  kicked  and 
fought,  for  he  was  very  strong.  But  he  could  do  noth- 
ing ;  and  in  a  little,  he  was  swallowed  to  the  knees. 
Then  he  called  in>  a  great  voice  for  his  wife ;  and 
all  the  people  of  the  Tee-wahn  came  running  with 
her.  When  they  saw  him  so,  they  were  very  sad  ; 
and  Ee-eh-phah  took  his  hand,  and  the  Grand- 
mother took  his  other,  and  all  the  people  helped 
them.  But  all  were  not  so  strong  as  the  great 
Toad;  and  fast  it  was  swallowing  him,  until  he  was 
at  the  waist.  Then  he  said: 

"  Go,  my  people  !  Go,  my  wife  !  For  it  is  in  vain. 
Go  from  this  place,  that  you  may  not  see  me. 
And  pray  to  the  Trues  if  they  will  help  me."  So 
they  all  went,  mourning  greatly. 

In  that  time  it  came  that  Shee-id-deh,  the 
House-Mouse,  stirred  from  his  hole;  and  seeing 
Sun-Arrow  so,  he  came  to  him,  weeping. 

"Oh,  Friend  Sun-Arrow!"  he  cried.  "You 
who  have  been  a  father  to  us  all,  you  who  have  fed 
us,  and  have  proved  yourself  so  brave — it  is  not  de- 
served that  you  should  be  thus.  But  we  for  whom 
you  have  cared,  we  will  be  the  ones  to  help  you  ! " 

Then  Shee-id-deh  ran  from  the  house  until  he 
found  the  Dog,  and  to  him  told  it  all.  And  Quee- 
ah-nid-deh,  whose  voice  was  big,  ran  out  into  the 
plains,  up  and  down,  pregonando 1  to  all  the  ani- 
mals ;  and  they  came  hurrying  from  all  places. 
Soon  all  the  birds  and  all  the  four-feet  were  met  in 

1  The  technical  (Spanish)  word  for  the  official  heralding  by  which  all 
announcements  are  still  made  among  the  Pueblos. 


174  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

council  in  the  room  where  Sun-Arrow  was ;  and 
the  Mountain  Lion  was  captain.  When  he  had 
listened  to  them,  he  said: 

"Now  let  each  tribe  of  you  choose  from  it  one 
who  is  young  and  strong,  to  give  help  to  him  who 
has  fed  us.  For  we  cannot  leave  him  to  die  so." 

When  every  kind  that  walks  or  flies  had  chosen 
its  strongest  one,  the  chosen  stood  out ;  and  Keem- 
ee-deh  called  them  by  name  to  take  their  turns. 

"Koo-ah-rai-deh  !  "  he  called;  and  the  Bluebird 
of  the  mountains  came  to  Sun-Arrow,  who  was 
now  swallowed  up  to  his  armpits.  Sun-Arrow 
grasped  her  long  tail  with  both  hands,  and  she 
flew  and  flew  with  all  her  might,  not  caring  for  the 
pain,  until  her  tail  was  pulled  off.  But  Sun-Arrow 
was  not  budged  a  hair. 

Then  the  captain  called  Ku-fd-deh,  the  Bear,  to 
try.  He  gave  his  long  tail  to  Sun-Arrow  to  hold  ; 
and  when  he  had  counted  "  One,  two,  three!"  he 
pulled  with  a  great  pull,  so  hard  that  his  whole  tail 
came  off.  And  still  Sun-Arrow  was  not  stirred. 

Then  it  was  to  the  Coyote.  But  he  said :  "  My 
ears  are  stronger " ;  for  he  was  a  coward,  and 
would  not  give  to  pull  on  his  pretty  tail,  of  which 
he  is  proud.  So  he  gave  to  Sun-Arrow  to  hold 
by  his  ears,  and  began  to  pull  backward.  But 
soon  it  hurt  him,  and  he  stopped  when  his  ears 
were  pulled  forward. 

"Now  it  is  to  you,  Kahr-nai-deh,"  said  the 
Mountain  Lion  ;  and  the  Badger  came  out  to  try. 
First  he  dug  around  Sun-Arrow,  and  gave  him  to 
hold  his  tail.  Then  he  counted  three,  and  pulled 
greatly,  so  that  his  tail  came  off — and  Sun-Arrow 


THE   BRAVE   BOBTAILS  175 

was  moved  a  very  little.  But  the  Badger  did  not 
fear  the  pain,  and  said : 

"  Let  it  be  to  me  twice  again,  Kah-bay-deh."1 

"It  is  well !  "  said  the  Mountain  Lion.  "  So  let 
it  be." 

So  the  Badger  dug  again,  and  gave  the  stump 
of  his  tail,  and  pulled.  And  Sun-Arrow  was 
loosened  a  little  more;  but  the  stump  slipped 
through  his  hands,  for  it  was  very  short. 

"Around  me,  friend,"  said  the  Badger,  when 
he  had  dug  a  third  time;  and  Sun-Arrow  clasped 
his  hands  around  the  Badger's  body,  behind  the 
fore  legs.  Then  for  the  third  time  Kahr-nai-deh 
pulled  —  so  mightily  that  he  dragged  Sun-Arrow 
clear  out  from  the  Toad's  mouth.  At  that,  all  the 
animals  fell  upon  the  wicked  Toad,  and  killed  it; 
and  gave  thanks  to  Those  Above  for  the  deliver- 
ance of  their  friend. 

When  they  had  prayed,  Sun- Arrow  thanked  all 
the  animals,  one  by  one ;  and  to  the  Bluebird,  the 
Bear, 'and  the  Badger,  he  said : 

"  Friends,  how  shall  I  thank  you  who  have  suf- 
fered so  much  for  me  ?  And  how  can  I  pay  you  for 
your  help,  and  for  the  tails  that  you  have  lost  ?  " 
But  to  the  Coyote  he  did  not  say  a  word. 

Then  said  the  Badger: 

"  Friend  T'hoor-hloh-ah,  as  for  me,  your  hand 
has  always  been  held  out  to  me.  You  have  fed 
me,  and  have  been  as  a  father:  I  want  no  pay  for 
this  tail  that  I  have  lost." 

And  the  Bear  and  the  Bluebird  both  answered 
the  same  thing. 

1  Commander. 


176  T£E-WAHN  FOLK-STORIES 

So  Sun-Arrow  again  gave  them  many  thanks, 
and  they  went  away  to  their  homes.  As  for  Sun- 
Arrow,  he  hurried  to  the  Medicine  House,  where 
all  the  Tee-wahn  were  making  medicine l  that  he 
might  be  saved.  And  when  they  saw  him  enter- 
ing, his  wife  ran  and  cried  on  his  shoulder,  and  all 
the  people  gave  thanks  to  the  Trues. 

Sun- Arrow  told  them  all  that  was ;  and  when 
the  Father-of-all-Medicine  looked  in  the  sacred 
cajete 2  he  saw  the  evil-hearted  girl  paying  the 
Spider-woman.  Then  the  Cum-pah-whit-la-wen 3 
went  running  with  their  bows  and  arrows,  and 
brought  the  girl ;  and  she  was  punished  as  are 
they  that  have  the  evil  road.  As  for  the  Spider- 
woman,  she  was  already  dead  of  shame ;  -  for  she 
knew  all  that  had  been. 

In  a  time  it  came  that  his  father-in-law  the 
Cacique  died;  and  they  made  Sun-Arrow  Ca- 
cique in  his  place.  For  many  years  he  was  so, 
bringing  great  good  to  his  people ;  for  he  was 
very  wise. 

As  for  the  Bear,  the  Badger,  and  the  Bluebird, 
they  would  never  go  to  the  medicine-men  gf  their 
tribes  to  have  their  tails  mended  to  grow  again ; 
for  they  were  proud  that  they  had  suffered  to  help 
their  friend.  And  to  this  very  day  they  go  with 
short  tails,  and  are  honored  by  all  the  animals,  and 
by  all  True  Believers.  But  Too-whay-deh,  the 

1  Not  compounding  remedies,  but  going  through  the  magic  dance  and  in- 
cantations to  which  the  Indians  always  resort  in  time  of  trouble.     For  a  des- 
cription of  a  medicine-making,  see  "  Some  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country." 

2  A  jar  of  magic  water,  in  which  the  chief  conjuror  is  supposed  to  see  all 
that  is  going  on  in  the  world. 

3  Armed  guards  of  the  Medicine  House. 


THE   BRAYE   BOBTAILS  177 

coward,  he  who  would  not  hurt  himself  with  pulling 
—  he  is  a  laughed-at  to  this  day.  For  his  ears 
cannot  lie  back,  as  is  well  for  beasts,  but  always 
point  straight  forward,  as  Sun-Arrow  pulled  them. 

Any  one  who  has  ever  seen  the  Coyote,  or  any 
other  of  the  wolf  or  fox  tribe,  must  have  noticed 
the  alert  forward  pricking  of  the  ears.  Among  the 
Pueblos,  any  such  peculiarity  of  nature — and  par- 
ticularly of  animal  life — is  very  sure  to  have  a  folk- 
story  hung  to  it.  It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that 
the  boy  who  always  wants  to  know  "  why  ? "  has  a 
better  time  of  it  among  my  Indian  friends  than  any- 
where else.  For  there  is  always  sure  to  be  a  why, 
and  an  interesting  one — which  is  much  more  satis- 
factory than  only  learning  that  "  it 's  bedtime  now," 
or  that  "  I  'm  busy." 


XXV 

ON  CARLOS,"  said  Vitorino,  throw- 
ing another  log  upon  the  fire,  which 
caught  his  tall  shadow  and  twisted  it 
and  set  it  dancing  against  the  rocky 
walls  of  the  canon  in  which  we  were 
camped  for  the  night,  "did  you  ever 
hear  why  the  Wolf  and  the  Deer  are 
enemies  ? "     And.  as    he    spoke    he 
stretched  out  near  me,   looking  up 
into  my  face  to  see  if  I  were  going  to  be  interested. 
A  few  years  ago  it  would  have  frightened  me 
very  seriously  to  find  myself  thus — alone  in  one 
of  the  remotest  corners  of  New  Mexico  save  for 
that  swarthy  face  peering  up  into  mine  by  the  weird 
light  of  the  camp-fire.     A  stern,  quiet  but  manly 
face  it  seems  to  me  now;  but  once  I  would  have 


THE    REVENGE   OF    THE   FAWNS  179 

thought  it  a  very  savage  one,  with  its  frame  of  long, 
jet  hair,  its  piercing  eyes,  and  the  broad  streak  of 
red  paint  across  its  cheeks.  By  this  time,  how- 
ever, having  lived  long  among  the  kindly  Pueblos, 
I  had  shaken  off  that  strange,  ignorant  prejudice 
against  all  that  is  unknown  —  which  seems  to  be 
inborn  in  all  of  us  —  and  wondered  that  I  could 
ever  have  believed  in  that  brutal  maxim,  worthy 
only  of  worse  than  savages,  that  "A  good  Indian 
is  a  dead  Indian."  For  Indians  are  men,  after  all, 
and  astonishingly  like  the  rest  of  us  when  one  really 
comes  to  know  them. 

I  pricked  up  my  ears  —  very  glad  at  his  hint  of 
another  of  these  folk-stories. 

''No,"  I  answered.  "I  have  noticed  that  the 
Wolf  and  the  Deer  are  not  on  good  terms,  but 
never  knew  the  reason." 

"  Sz,  senor"  said  he, —  for  Vitorino  knows  no 
English,  and  most  of  our  talk  was  in  Spanish,  which 
is  easier  to  me  than  the  Tee-wahn  language, — 
"  that  was  very  long  ago,  and  now  all  is  changed. 
But  once  the  Wolf  and  the  Deer  were  like  brothers ; 
and  it  is  only  because  the  Wolf  did  very  wickedly 
that  they  are  enemies.  Con  su  licencia,  senor.  " * 

"  Eiieno  ;  anda!"* 

So  Vitorino  leaned  his  shoulders  against  a  con- 
venient rock  and  began. 

Once  upon  a  time,  when  the  Wolf  and  the  Deer 
were  friends,  there  were  two  neighbors  in  the  coun- 
try beyond  the  Rio  Puerco,  not  far  from  where  the 

l"With  your  permission,  sir." 
2  "All  right;  go  ahead!" 


i8o  TEEWAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

pueblo  of  Laguna  (a  Queres  town)  now  is.  One 
was  a  Deer-mother  who  had  two  fawns,  and  the 
other  a  Wolf-mother  with  two  cubs.  They  had 
very  good  houses  of  adobe,  just  such  as  we  live  in 
now,  and  lived  like  real  people  in  every  way.  The 
two  were  great  friends,  and  neither  thought  of 
going  to  the  mountain  for  firewood  or  to  dig 
amole1  without  calling  for  the  other  to  accompany 
her. 

One  day  the  Wolf  came  to  the  house  of  the  Deer 
and  said : 

"  Friend  Pee-hlee-oh  [Deer-woman],  let  us 
go  to-day  for  wood  and  amole,  for  I  must  wash 
to-morrow." 

"It  is  well,  friend  Kahr-hlee-oh,"  replied  the 
Deer.  "I  have  nothing  to  do,  and  there  is  food 
in  the  house  for  the  children  while  I  am  gone. 
Too-kwai  /  [Let  us  go]." 

So  they  went  together  across  the  plain  and  into 
the  hills  till  they  came  to  their  customary  spot. 
They  gathered  wood  and  tied  it  in  bundles  to  bring 
home  on  their  backs,  and  dug  amole,  which  they 
put  in  their  shawls  to  carry.  Then  the  Wolf  sat 
down  under  a  cedar-tree  and  said : 

"Ai!  But  I  am  tired !  Sit  down,  friend  Deer- 
woman,  and  lay  your  head  in  my  lap,  that  we  may 
rest." 

"No,  I  am  not  tired,"  replied  the  Deer. 

"  But  just  to  rest  a  little,"  urged  the  Wolf.  The 
Deer  good-naturedly  lay  down  with  her  head  in  the 
lap  of  her  friend.  But  soon  the  Wolf  bent  down 
and  caught  the  trusting  Deer  by  the  throat,  and 

!The  root  of  the  palmilla,  generally  used  for  soap  throughout  the  Southwest. 


THE   REVENGE   OF   THE   FAWNS  181 

killed  her.  That  was  the  first  time  in  the  world 
that  any  one  betrayed  a  friend,  and  from  that  deed 
comes  all  the  treachery  that  is. 

The  false  Wolf  took  off  the  hide  of  the  Deer,  and 
cut  off  some  of  the  meat  and  carried  it  home  on  her 
load  of  amole  and  wood.  She  stopped  at  the  house 
of  the  Deer,  and  gave  the  Fawns  some  of  the  ac- 
cursed meat,  saying: 

" Friends,  Deer-babies,  do  not  fear,  but  eat; 
your  mother  met  relatives  and  went  to  their  house, 
and  she  will  not  come  to-night." 

The  Fawns  were  very  hungry,  and  as  soon  as 
the  Wolf  had  gone  home  they  built  a  big  fire  in  the 
fireplace  and  set  the  meat  to  cook.  But  at  once  it 
began  to  sputter  and  to  hiss,  and  the  Fawn  who 
was  tending  it  heard  it  cry,  "  Look  out!  look  out! 
for  this  is  your  mother  !  " 

He  was  greatly  frightened,  and  called  his  brother 
to  listen,  and  again  the  same  words  came  from  the 
meat. 

"The  wicked  old  Wolf  has  killed  our  nana ! 
[mama],"  they  cried,  and,  pulling  the  meat  from 
the  fire,  they  laid  it  gently  away  and  sobbed  them- 
selves to  sleep. 

Next  morning  the  Wolf  went  away  to  the 
mountain  to  bring  the  rest  of  the  deer-meat;  and 
when  she  was  gone  her  Cubs  came  over  to  play 
with  the  Fawns,  as  they  were  used  to  doing. 
When  they  had  played  awhile,  the  Cubs  said : 

"Pee-oo-wee-deh  [little  Deer],  why  are  you  so 
prettily  spotted,  and  why  do  you  have  your  eye- 
lids red,  while  we  are  so  ugly?" 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Fawns,  "  that  is  because  when 

16 


182  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

we  were  little,  like  you,  our  mother  put  us  in  a 
room  and  smoked  us,  and  made  us  spotted." 

"  Oh,  Fawn-friends,  can't  you  spot  us,  too,  so 
that  we  may  be  pretty  ?  " 

So  the  Fawns,  anxious  to  avenge  the  death 
of  their  mother,  built  a  big  fire  of  corn-cobs  in 
the  fireplace,  and  threw  coyote-grass  on  it  to 
make  a  great  smoke.  Then,  shutting  the  Cubs 
into  the  room,  they  plastered  up  the  door  and 
windows  with  mud,  and  laid  a  flat  rock  on  top 
of  the  chimney  and  sealed  it  around  with  mud ; 
and  climbing  down  from  the  roof,  they  took  each 
other's  hands  and  ran  away  to  the  south  as  fast 
as  ever  they  could. 

After  they  had  gone  a  long  way,  they  came  to  a 
Coyote.  He  was  walking  back  and  forth  with  one 
paw  to  his  face,  howling  dreadfully  with  the  tooth- 
ache. The  Fawns  said  to  him  very  politely : 

"Ah-boo/  [poor  thing].  Old-man  friend,  we 
are  sorry  your  tooth  hurts.  But  an  old  Wolf  is 
chasing  us,  and  we  cannot  stay.  If  she  comes  this 
way,  asking  about  us,  do  not  tell  her,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Een-dah.  Little-Deer-friends,  I  will  not  tell 
her" — and  he  began  to  howl  again  with  pain, 
while  the  Fawns  ran  on. 

When  the  Wolf  came  to  her  home  with  the  rest 
of  the  meat,  the  Cubs  were  not  there ;  and  she 
went  over  to  the  house  of  the  Deer.  It  was  all 
sealed  and  still ;  and  when  she  pushed  in  the  door, 
there  were  her  Cubs  .dead  in  the  smoke  !  When 
she  saw  that,  the  old  Wolf  was  wild  with  rage,  and 
vowed  to  follow  the  Fawns  and  eat  them  without 
mercy.  She  soon  found  their  tracks  leading  away 


THE    WOLF,  AND    THE    COYOTE    WITH    THE    TOOTHACHE. 


THE   REVENGE   OF   THE   FAWNS  185 

to  the  south,  and  began  to  run  very  swiftly  in 
pursuit. 

In  a  little  while  she  came  to  the  Coyote,  who 
was  still  walking  up  and  down,  howling  so  that 
one  could  hear  him  a  mile  away.  But  not  pitying 
his  pain,  she  snarled  at  him  roughly : 

"Say,  old  man!  have  you  seen  two  Fawns  run- 
ning away?  " 

The  Coyote  paid  no  attention  to  her,  but  kept 
walking  with  his  hand  to  his  mouth,  groaning, 
"  Mm-m-pdh  /  Mm-m-pdh  !  " 

Again  she  asked  him  the  same  question,  more 
snappishly,  but  he  only  howled  and  groaned. 
Then  she  was  very  angry,  and  showed  her  big 
teeth  as  she  said : 

"  I  don't  care  about  your  '  Mm-m-pdh  !  Mm-m- 
pdh  f '  Tell  me  if  you  saw  those  Fawns,  or  1 11  eat 
you  this  very  now  !  " 

"Fawns?  Fawns?"  groaned  the  Coyote— "I 
have  been  wandering  with  the  toothache  ever  since 
the  world  began.  And  do  you  think  I  have  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  watch  for  Fawns?  Go  along, 
and  don't  bother  me." 

So  the  Wolf,  who  was  growing  angrier  all  the 
time>  went  hunting  around  till  she  found  the  trail, 
and  set  to  running  on  it  as  fast  as  she  could  go. 

By  this  time  the  Fawns  had  come  to  where  two 
Indian  boys  were  playing  Kwah-fhim^  with  their 
.bows  and  arrows,  and  said  to  them: 

"  Friends  boys,  if  an  old  Wolf  comes  along  and 
asks  if  you  have  seen  us,  don't  tell  her,  will  you  ?  " 

The  boys  promised  that  they  would  not,  and  the 

1  A  sort  of  walking  archery. 


i86  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

Fawns  hurried  on.  But  the  Wolf  could  run  much 
faster,  and  soon  she  came  to  the  boys,  to  whom  she 
cried  gruffly: 

"  You  boys  f  did  you  see  two  Fawns  running  this 
way  ?  " 

But  the  boys  paid  no  attention  to  her,  and  went 
on  playing  their  game  and  disputing:  "  My  arrow  's 
nearest !  "  "  No ;  mine  is  !  "  "  'T  ain't !  Mine  is  ! " 
She  repeated  her  question  again  and  again,  but  got 
no  answer  till  she  cried  in  a  rage : 

"  You  little  rascals !  Answer  me  about  those 
Fawns,  or  I  11  eat  you  !  " 

At  that  the  boys  turned  around  and  said : 

"We  have  been  here  all  day,  playing  k'wah- 
fkim,  and  not  hunting  Fawns.  Go  on,  and  do  not 
disturb  us." 

So  the  Wolf  lost  much  time  with  her  questions 
and  with  finding  the  trail  again  ;  but  then  she  began 
to  run  harder  than  ever. 

In  the  mean  time  the  Fawns  had  come  to  the 
bank  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and  there  was  Pah-chah- 
hloo-hli,  the  Beaver,  hard  at  work  cutting  down 
a  tree  with  his  big  teeth.  And  they  said  to  him 
very  politely : 

"  Friend  Old-Crosser-of-the-Water,  will  you 
please  pass  us  over  the  river?" 

The  Beaver  took  them  on  his  back  and  carried 
them  safely  across  to  the  other  bank.  When  they 
had  thanked  him,  they  asked  him  not  to  tell  the  old 
Wolf  about  them.  He  promised  he  would  not,  and 
swam  back  to  his  work.  The  Fawns  ran  and  ran, 
across  the  plain,  till  they  came  to  a  big  black  hill 
of  lava  that  stands  alone  in  the  valley  southeast  of 
Tome. 


THE   REVENGE   OF   THE   FAWNS  189 

"Here!"  said  one  of  the  Fawns,  "I  am  sure 
this  must  be  the  place  our  mother  told  us  about, 
where  the  Trues  of  our  people  live.  Let  us  look." 

And  when  they  came  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  they 
found  a  trap-door"  in  the  solid  rock.  When  they 
knocked,  the  door  was  opened  and  a  voice  called, 
"  Enter  !  "  They  went  down  the  ladder  into  a  great 
room  underground;  and  there  they  found  all  the 
Trues  of  the  Deer-people,  who  welcomed  them  and 
gave  them  food. 

When  they  had  told  their  story,  the  Trues  said : 

"  Fear  not,/riends,  for  we  will  take  care  of  you." 

And  the  War-captain  picked  out  fifty  strong 
young  bucks  for  a  guard. 

By  this  time  the  Wolf  had  come  to  the  river, 
and  there  she  found  the  Beaver  hard  at  work  and 
grunting  as  he  cut  the  tree. 

"Old  man!"  she  snarled,  "did  you  see  two 
Fawns  here  ?  " 

But  the  Beaver  did  not  notice  her,  and  kept  on 
walking  around  the  tree,  cutting  it  and  grunting, 
"Ah-o6-mah!  Ah-oo-mah!" 

She  was  in  a  terrible  rage  now,  and  roared : 

"I  am  not  talking  ' Ah-oo-mah!'  to  you.  I  'm 
asking  if  you  saw  two  Fawns." 

"Well,"  said  the  Beaver,  "I  have  been  cutting 
trees  here  by  the  river  ever  since  I  was  born,  and 
I  have  no  time  to  think  about  Fawns." 

The  Wolf,  crazy  with  rage,  ran  up  and  down  the 
bank,  and  at  last  came  back  and  said : 

"  Old  man,  if  you  will  carry  me  over  the  river  I 
will  pay  you;  but  if  you  don't,  I  '11  eat  you  up." 

"  Well,  wait  then  till  I  cut  around  the  tree  three 


190  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

times  more,"  said  the  Beaver;  and  he  made  her 
wait.  Then  he  jumped  down  in  the  water  and 
took  her  on  his  neck,  and  began  to  swim  across. 
But  as  soon  as  he  came  where  the  water  was  deep, 
he  dived  to  the  bottom  and  stayed  there  as  long  as 
he  could. 

"Ah-h-h  !  "  sputtered  the  Wolf  when  he  came  to 
the  surface.  As  soon  as  the  Beaver  got  a  breath, 
down  he  went  again ;  and  so  he  kept  doing  all  the 
way  across,  until  the  Wolf  was  nearly  drowned  — 
but  she  clung  to  his  neck  desperately,  and  he  could 
not  shake  her  off. 

When  they  came  to  the  shore  the  old  Wolf  was 
choking,  coughing,  and  crying,  and  so  mad  that 
she  would  not  pay  the  Beaver  as  she  had  promised 
—  and  from  that  day  to  this  the  Beaver  will  never 
again  ferry  a  Wolf  across  the  river. 

Presently  she  found  the  trail,  and  came  running 
to  the  hill.  When  she  knocked  on  the  trap-door  a 
voice  from  within  called,  ''Who?" 

"  Wolf-woman,"  she  answered  as  politely  as  she 
could,  restraining  her  anger. 

"Come  down,"  said  the  voice,  and  hearing  her 
name  the  fifty  young  Deer-warriors  —  who  had 
carefully  whetted  their  horns  —  stood  ready.  The 
door  flew  open,  and  she  started  down  the  ladder. 
But  as  soon  as  she  set  her  foot  on  the  first  rung, 
all  the  Deer-people  shouted : 

"  Look  what  feet !  "  For,  though  the  Deer  is  so 
much  larger  than  the  Wolf,  it  has  smaller  feet. 

At  this  she  was  very  much  ashamed,  and  pulled 
back  her  foot;  but  soon  her  anger  was  stronger, 
and  she  started  down  again.  But  each  time  the 


THE   REVENGE   OF    THE   FAWNS  193 

Deer-people  laughed  and  shouted,  and  she  drew 
back. 

At  last  they  were  quiet,  and  she  came  down  the 
ladder.  When  she  had  told  her  story  the  old  men 
of  the  Deer-people  said  : 

"This  is  a  serious  case,  and  we  must  not  judge 
it  lightly.  Come,  we  will  make  an  agreement. 
Let  soup  be  brought,  and  we  will  eat  together. 
And  if  you  eat  all  your  soup  without  spilling  a 
drop,  you  shall  have  the  Fawns." 

<4Ho!"  thought  the  Wolf.  "That  is  easy  enough, 
for  I  will  be  very  careful."  And  aloud  she  said: 
"  It  is  well.  Let  us  eat." 

So  a  big  bowl  of  soup  was  brought,  and  each 
took  ^guayave  1  and  rolled  it  like  a  spoon  to  dip  up 
the  soup.  The  old  Wolf  was  very  careful,  and  had 
almost  finished  her  soup  without  spilling  a  drop. 
But  just  as  she  was  lifting  the  last  sup  to  her 
mouth  the  Fawns  appeared  suddenly  in  the  door 
of  the  next  room,  and  at  sight  of  them  she  dropped 
the  soup  in  her  lap. 

"  She  spilled  !  "  shouted  all  the  Deer-people,  and 
the  fifty  chosen  warriors  rushed  upon  her  and  tore 
her  to  pieces  with  their  sharp  horns. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  treacherous  Wolf;  and 
from  that  day  the  Wolf  and  the  Deer  have  been 
enemies,  and  the  Wolf  is  a  little  afraid  of  the  Deer. 
And  the  two  Fawns  ?  Oh,  they  still  live  with  the 
Deer-people  in  that  black  hill  below  Tome. 

1  An  Indian  bread  made  by  spreading  successive  films  of  blue  corn-meal 
batter  on  a  flat  hot  stone.  It  looks  more  like  a  piece  of  wasp's  nest  than 
anything  else,  but  is  very  good  to  eat. 


XXVI 

THE    SOBBING    PINE 

ANOTHER  folk-story  told  by  the  Queres  col- 
/JL  ony  in  Isleta  also  relates  to  Acoma,  perched 
upon  the  great  round  cliff  in  its  far,  fair  valley. 

Among  the  folk-lore  heroes  of  whom  every 
Queres  lad  has  heard  is  Ees-tee-ah  Muts,  the  Ar- 
row Boy.  He  was  a  great  hunter  and  did  many 
remarkable  things,  but  there  was  once  a  time  when 
all  his  courage  and  strength  were  of  no  avail, — 
when  but  for  the  help  of  a  little  squirrel  he  would 
have  perished  miserably. 

On  reaching  manhood  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  married 
the  daughter  of  the  Kot-chin  (chief).  She  was  a 
very  beautiful  girl  and  her  hunter-husband  was 
very  fond  of  her.  But,  alas!  she  was  secretly  a 
witch  and  every  night  when  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  was 
asleep  she  used  to  fly  away  to  the  mountains, 
where  the  witches  held  their  uncanny  meetings. 
You  must  know  that  these  witches  have  dreadful 
appetites,  and  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  world 
of  which  they  are  so  fond  as  boiled  baby. 

Ees-tee-ah  Muts,  who  was  a  very  good  man, 
had  no  suspicion  that  his  wife  was  guilty  of  such 


THE    SOBBING    PINE  195 

practices,  and  she  was  very  careful  to  keep  him  in 
ignorance  of  it. 

One  day,  when  the  witch-wife  was  planning  to 
go  to  a  meeting,  she  stole  a  fat  young  baby  and 
put  it  to  cook  in  a  great  olla  (earthen  jar)  in  the 
dark  inner  room.  But  before  night  she  found  she 
must  go  for  water,  and  as  the  strange  stone  res- 
ervoir at  Acoma  is  a  laborious  half-mile  from  the 
houses,  she  would  be  gone  some  time.  So,  as  she 
departed  with  a  bright -pain  ted  tinaja  upon  her 
head,  she  charged  her  husband  on  no  account  to 
enter  the  inner  room. 

When  she  was  gone  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  began  to 
ponder  what  she  had  said,  and  he  feared  that  all 
was  not  well.  He  went  to  the  inner  room  and 
looked  around,  and  when  he  found  the  baby  cook- 
ing he  was  grieved,  as  any  good  husband  would 
be,  for  then  he  knew  that  his  wife  was  a  witch. 
But  when  his  wife  returned  with  water,  he  said  not 
a  word,  keeping  only  a  sharp  lookout  to  see  what 
would  come. 

Very  early  that  night  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  pretended 
to  go  to  sleep,  but.  he  was  really  very  wide  awake. 
His  wife  was  quiet,  but  he  could  feel  that  she  was 
watching  him.  Presently  a  cat  came  sneaking  into 
the  room  and  whispered  to  the  witch-wife : 

"  Why  do  you  not  come  to  the  meeting,  for  we 
await  you  ?" 

"Wait  me  yet  a  little,"  she  whispered,  "until  the 
man  is  sound  asleep." 

The  cat  crept  away,  and  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  kept 
very  still.  By  and  by  an  owl  came  in  and  bade 
the  woman  hurry.  And  at  last,  thinking  her  hus- 


196  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

band  asleep,  the  witch-wife  rose  noiselessly  and 
went  out.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  Ees-tee-ah 
Muts  got  up  and  followed  her  at  a  distance,  for  it 
was  a  night  of  the  full  moon. 

The  witch-wife  walked  a  long  way  till  she  came 
to  the  foot  of  the  Black  Mesa,  where  was  a  great 
dark  hole  with  a  rainbow  in  its  mouth.  As  she 
passed  under  the  rainbow  she  turned  herself  into  a 
cat  and  disappeared  within  the  cave.  Ees-tee-ah 
Muts  crept  softly  up  and  peered  in.  He  saw  a 
great  firelit  room  full  of  witches  in  the  shapes  of 
ravens  and  vultures,  wolves  and  other  animals  of  ill 
omen.  They  were  gathered  about  their  feast  and 
were  enjoying  themselves  greatly,  eating  and  dan- 
cing and  singing  and  planning  evil  to  mankind. 

For  a  long  time  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  watched  them, 
but  at  last  one  caught  sight  of  his  face  peering  in 
at  the  hole. 

"  Bring  him  in!"  shouted  the  chief  witch,  and 
many  of  them  rushed  out  and  surrounded  him  and 
dragged  him  into  the  cave. 

"  Now,"  said  the  chief  witch,  who  was  very  angry, 
"we  have  caught  you  as  a  spy  and  we  ought  to  kill 
you.  But  if  you  will  save  your  life  and  be  one 
of  us,  go  home  and  bring  me  the  hearts  of  your 
mother  and  sister,  and  I  will  teach  you  all  our  ways, 
so  that  you  shall  be  a  mighty  wizard." 

Ees-tee-ah  Muts  hurried  home  to  Acoma  and 
killed  two  sheep ;  for  he  knew,  as  every  Indian 
knows,  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to  escape  from  the 
witches.  Taking  the  hearts  of  the  sheep,  he 
quickly  returned  to  the  chief  witch,  to  whom  he 
gave  them.  But  when  the  chief  witch  pricked  the 
hearts  with  a  sharp  stick  they  swelled  themselves 


THE    SOBBING    PINE  197 

out  like  a  frog.  Then  he  knew  that  he  had  been 
deceived,  and  was  very  angry,  but  pretending  not 
to  care  he  ordered  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  to  go  home, 
which  the  frightened  hunter  was  very  glad  to  do. 

But  next  morning  when  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  awoke 
he  was  not  in  his  own  home  at  all,  but  lying  on  a 
tiny  shelf  far  up  a  dizzy  cliff.  To  jump  was  certain 
death,  for  it  was  a  thousand  feet  to  the  ground ; 
and  climb  he  could  not,  for  the  smooth  rock  rose  a 
thousand  feet  above  his  head.  Then  he  knew  that 
he  had  been  bewitched  by  the  chief  of  those  that 
have  the  evil  road,  and  that  he  must  die.  He 
could  hardly  move  without  falling  from  the  narrow 
shelf,  and  there  he  lay  with  bitter  thoughts  until 
the  sun  was  high  overhead. 

At  last  a  young  Squirrel  came  running  along 
the  ledge,  and,  seeing  him,  ran  back  to  its  mother, 
crying: 

"Nanaf  Nana !  Here  is  a  dead  man  lying 
on  our  ledge  !  " 

"No,  he  is  not  dead,"  said  the  Squirrel-mother 
when  she  had  looked,  "but  I  think  he  is  very 
hungry.  Here,  take  this  acorn-cup  and  carry  him 
some  corn-meal  and  water." 

The  young  Squirrel  brought  the  acorn-cup  full 
of  wet  corn-meal,  but  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  would  not 
take  it,  for  he  thought: 

"  Pah  !  What  is  so  little  when  I  am  fainting 
for  food?" 

But  the  Squirrel-mother,  knowing  what  was  in 
his  heart,  said : 

"Not  so,  Saii-kee-ne  [friend].  It  looks  to  be 
little,  but  there  will  be  more  than  enough.  Eat 
and  be  strong." 


198  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

Still  doubting,  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  took  the  cup 
and  ate  of  the  blue  corn-meal  until  he  could  eat  no 
longer,  and  yet  the  acorn-cup  was  not  empty. 
Then  the  young  Squirrel  took  the  cup  and  brought 
it  full  of  water,  and  though  he  was  very  thirsty  he 
could  not  drain  it. 

"Now,  friend,"  said  the  Squirrel-mother,  when 
he  was  refreshed  by  his  meal,  "you  cannot  yet 
get  down  from  here,  where  the  witches  put  you ; 
but  wait,  for  I  am  the  one  that  will  help  you." 

She  went  to  her  store-room  and  brought  out  a 
pine-cone,  which  she  dropped  over  the  great  cliff. 
Ees-tee-ah  Muts  lay  on  the  narrow  ledge  as 
patiently  as  he  could,  sleeping  sometimes  and 
sometimes  thinking  of  his  strange  plight.  Next 
morning  he  could  see  a  stout  young  pine-tree 
growing  at  the  bottom  of  the  cliff,  where  he  was 
very  sure  there  had  been  no  tree  at  all  the  day 
before.  Before  night  it  was  a  large  tree,  and  the 
second  morning  it  was  twice  as  tall.  The  young 
Squirrel  brought  him  meal  and  water  in  the  acorn- 
cup  twice  a  day,  and  now  he  began  to  be  confident 
that  he  would  escape. 

By  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  the  magic  pine 
towered  far  above  his  head,  and  it  was  so  close  to 
the  cliff  that  he  could  touch  it  from  his  shelf. 

"Now,  Friend  Man,"  said  the  Squirrel-mother, 
"follow  me!"  and  she  leaped  lightly  into  the  tree. 
Ees-tee-ah  Muts  seized  a  branch  and  swung  over 
into  the  tree,  and  letting  himself  down  from  bough 
to  bough,  at  last  reached  the  ground  in  safety. 

The  Squirrel-mother  came  with  him  to  the 
ground,  and  he  thanked  her  for  her  kindness. 


THE    SOBBING    PINE  199 

"  But  now  I  must  go  back  to  my  home,"  she  said. 
"  Take  these  seeds  of  the  pine-tree  and  these  pinon- 
nuts  which  I  have  brought  for  you,  and  be  very 
careful  of  them.  When  you  get  home,  give  your 
wife  the  pine-seeds,  but  you  must  eat  the  pinons. 
So  now,  good-by,"  and  off  she  went  up  the  tree. 

When  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  had  come  to  Acoma  and 
climbed  the  dizzy  stone  ladder  and  stood  in  the 
adobe  town,  he  was  very  much  surprised.  For  the 
four  days  of  his  absence  had  really  been  four  years, 
and  the  people  looked  strange.  All  had  given  him 
up  for  dead,  and  his  witch-wife  had  married  another 
man,  but  still  lived  in  the  same  house,  which  was 
hers.1  When  Ees-tee-ah  Muts  entered  she  seemed 
very  glad  to  see  him,  and  pretended  to  know  noth- 
ing of  what  had  befallen  him.  He  said  nothing 
about  it,  but  talked  pleasantly  while  he  munched 
the  pinon-nuts,  giving  her  the  pine-seeds  to  eat. 
Her  new  husband  made  a  bed  for  Ees-tee-ah  Muts, 
and  in  the  morning  very  early  the  two  men  went 
away  together  on  a  hunt. 

That  afternoon  the  mother  of  the  witch-wife 
went  to  visit  her  daughter,  but  when  she  came  near 
the  house  she  stopped,  in  terror,  for  far  up  through 
the  roof  grew  a  great  pine-tree,  whose  furry  arms 
came  out  at  doors  and  windows.  That  was  the 
end  of  the  witch-wife,  for  the  magic  seed  had 
sprouted  in  her  stomach,  and  she  was  turned  into 
a  great,  sad  Pine  that  swayed  above  her  home, 
and  moaned  and  sobbed  forever,  as  all  her  Pine- 
children  do  to  this  day. 

1  It  is  one  of  the  fundamental  customs  of  the  Pueblos  that  the  house  and  its 
general  contents  belong  to  the  wife ;  the  fields  and  other  outside  property  to 
the  husband. 


XXVII 

THE    QUERES    DIANA 

THERE  is  a  fragmentary  Queres  folk-story 
which  bears  internal  evidence  that  its  heroine 
was  the  mother  of  the  Hero  Twins  —  that  is,  the 
Moon.  The  adventure  described  here  is  one  of 
those  which  befell  the  Moon -Mother,  as  related 
in  several  myths ;  though  it  has  been  varied,  evi- 
dently by  some  later  story-teller,  and  the  identity 
of  the  heroine  does  not  appear  at  first  sight.  It 
is  a  story  common  to  all  the  Queres,  and  is  un- 
doubtedly ancient;  but  as  I  heard  it  first  in  Isleta 
its  scene  is  laid  in  Laguna,  a  pueblo  only  two  hun- 
dred years  old. 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Tah-poh-pee1  of  Laguna 
had  a  daughter,  who  was  the  belle  of  the  village. 
She  was  very  fond  of  hunting,  and  killed  as  much 
game  as  any  of  the  young  men.  Several  miles 
south  of  Laguna  is  a  very  large  sandstone  dome 
rising  in  the  plain,  and  in  the  heart  of  this  rock 
the  Governor's  daughter  had  hollowed  out  a  room 
in  which  she  used  to  camp  when  on  her  hunting- 
expeditions. 

One  day  there  came  a  snow  that  covered  the 

1  Governor. 


200 


THE   QUERES   DIANA  201 

ground  so  that  one  could  easily  track  rabbits,  and 
taking  her  bow  and  arrows  she  started  off  to  hunt. 

She  had  unusual  luck,  and  by  the  time  she 
reached  the  hunting-lodge  she  was  loaded  down 
with  rabbits.  The  evening  was  very  cold,  and  she 
was  hungry;  so,  going  into  the  rock-house,  she 
built  a  fire  on  the  hearth  and  began  to  roast  a  rab- 
bit. Just  as  it  was  cooking  a  strong  west  wind 
came  up  and  carried  the  savory  smell  from  her 
chimney  far  to  the  east,  till  it  reached  a  dark  cav- 
ern in  the  Sandia  Mountains,  fifty  miles  away. 
There  lived  an  old  giantess,  the  terror  of  all  the 
world,  and  when  she  caught  a  whiff  of  that  sweet 
meat  she  started  up  and  rubbed  her  big  red  eye. 

"Urn!"  she  cried,  "that  is  good!  I  am  going  to  see 
where  it  is,  for  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  to-day." 

In  two  steps  she  was  at  the  rock-house,  and, 
stooping  down,  she  called  at  the  door:  "  Quah- 
tzee?  [How  are  you?]  What  are  you  cooking  in 
there  ? " 

"  Rabbits,"  said  the  girl,  dreadfully  scared  at 
that  great  voice. 

"Then  give  me  one,"  shouted  the  old  giantess. 
The  girl  threw  one  out  at  the  door,  and  the 
giantess  swallowed  it  at  a  gulp  and  demanded 
more.  The  girl  kept  throwing  them  out  until  all 
were  gone.  Then  the  giantess  called  for  her 
mania  (dress),  and  her  shawl  and  her  buckskin 
leggings,  and  ate  them  all,  and  at  last  said : 

"  Little  girl,  now  you  come  out,  and  let  me  eat 
you." 

The  girl  began  to  cry  bitterly  when  she  saw  that 
great  savage  eye  at  the  cloor,  which  was  so  small 


202  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

that  the  giantess  could  not  get  her  huge  hand  in. 
She  repeated  her  commands  thrice,  and  when  the 
girl  still  refused  to  come  out,  picked  up  a  great 
boulder  and  began  to  hammer  the  rock-house  to 
pieces.  But  just  as  she  had  broken  off  the  roof 
and  stooped  to  pick  out  the  girl,  two  hunters 
chanced  to  pass  and  hear  the  noise.  They  crept 
up  and  shot  the  giantess  through  the  neck  with 
their  strong  arrows  and  killed  her,  and,  bringing 
new  clothes  for  the  girl,  took  her  home  safely  to 
K6-iks  (the  native  name  for  Laguna),  where  she 
lived  for  many  years. 


XXVIII 

A    PUEBLO    BLUEBEARD 

ANOTHER  fragmentary  story  of  the  Queres 
/A,  seems  to  refer  to  this  same  remarkable  woman. 
You  will  see  the  connection  when  you  remember 
that  the  Moon  disappears  every  month;  and  I 
should  judge  that  the  following  myth  means  that 
the  Storm- King  steals  her. 

Once  upon  a  time  a  chief  of  Acoma  had  a  lovely 
daughter.  One  day  a  handsome  stranger  stole  her 
and  took  her  away  to  his  home,  which  was  in  the 
heart  of  the  Snow  Mountain  (Mt.  San  Mateo). 
He  was  none  other  than  Mast-Truan,  one  of  the 
Storm-Gods.  Bringing  his  captive  hcme,  the  pow- 
erful stranger  gave  her  the  finest  clothing  and 
treated  her  very  nicely.  But  most  of  the  time  he 
had  to  be  away  from  home,  attending  to  the  storms, 
and  she  became  very  lonesome,  for  there  was  no 
one  to  keep  her  company  but  Mast-Truan's  wrinkled 
old  mother. 

One  day  when  she  could  stand  the  loneliness  no 
longer,  she  decided  to  take  a  walk  through  the 
enormous  house  and  look  at  the  rooms  which  she 
had  not  seen.  Opening  a  door  she  came  into  a 
very  large  room  toward  the  east ;  and  there  were 

203 


204  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

a  lot  of  women  crying  and  shivering  with  cold,  for 
they  had  nothing  to  wear.  Going  through  this 
room  she  came  to  another,  which  was  full  of  gaunt, 
starving  women,  and.  here  and  there  one  lay  dead 
upon  the  floor;  and  in  the  next  room  were  scores 
of  bleached  and  ghastly  skeletons.  And  this  was 
what  Mast-Truan  did  with  his  wives  when  he  was 
tired  of  them.  The  girl  saw  her  fate,  and,  return- 
ing to  her  room,  sat  down  and  wept — but  there 
was  no  escape,  for  Mast-Truan's  old  hag  of  a 
mother  forever  guarded  the  outer  door. 

When  Mast-Truan  came  home  again,  his  wife 
said:  "It  is  now  long  that  I  have  not  seen 'my 
fathers.  Let  me  go  home  for  a  little  while." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "here  is  some  corn  which  must 
be  shelled.  When  you  have  shelled  it  and  ground 
it,  I  will  let  you  out "  ;  and  he  showed  her  four  great 
rooms  piled  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  ears  of  corn. 
It  was  more  than  one  could  shell  in  a  year;  and 
when  her  husband  went  out,  she  sat  down  again 
to  cry  and  bemoan  her  fate. 

Just  then  a  queer  little  old  woman  appeared  be- 
fore her,  with  a  kindly  smile.  It  was  a  cumush- 
quio  (fairy- worn  an). 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  daughter?"  asked  the 
old  fairy,  gently,  "and  why  do  you  weep?" 

The  captive  told  her  all,  and  the  fairy  said:  "Do 
not  fear,  daughter,  for  I  will  help  you,  and  we  will 
have  all  the  corn  shelled  and  ground  in  four  days." 

So  they  fell  to  work.  For  two  days  the  girl 
kept  shelling;  and  though  she  could  not  see  the 
old  fairy  at  all,  she  could  always  hear  at  her  side 
the  click  of  the  ears  together.  Then  for  two  days 


A   PUEBLO    BLUEBEARD  205 

she  kept  grinding  on  her  metate,  apparently  alone, 
but  hearing  the  constant  grind  of  another  metate 
close  beside  her.  At  the  end  of  the  fourth  day  the 
last  kernel  had  been  scrubbed  into  blue  meal,  and 
she  was  very  happy.  Then  the  old  fairy-woman 
appeared  again,  bringing  a  large  basket  and  a  rope. 
She  opened  the  doors  to  all  the  rooms  where  the 
poor  women  were  prisoners,  and  bade  them  all  get 
into  the  basket  one  by  one.  Mast-Truan  had  taken 
away  the  ladder  from  the  house  when  he  left,  that 
no  one  might  be  able  to  get  out ;  but  with  her 
basket  and  rope  the  good  old  fairy-woman  let  them 
all  down  to  the  ground,  and  told  them  to  hurry 
home — which  they  did  as  fast  as  ever  their  poor, 
starved  legs  could  carry  them.  Then  the  fairy- 
woman  and  the  girl  escaped,  and  made  their  way 
to  Acoma.  So  there  was  a  Moon  again — and  that 
it  was  the  Moon,  we  may  be  very  sure ;  since  this 
same  girl  became  the  mother  of  the  Hero  Twins, 
who  were  assuredly  Children  of  the  Moon. 


XXIX 

THE    HERO    TWINS 

THAT  the  heroes  of  -The  Magic  Hide-and- 
Seek"  were  really  the  Pueblo  Castor  and 
Pollux,  the  twin  offspring  of  the  Sun-Father  and 
the  Moon-Mother,  is  more  than  probable.  For 
some  reason  which  I  do  not  know,  these  demigods 
do  not  figure  as  clearly  in  the  Tee-wahn  myths  as 
among  the  other  Pueblos,  the  Navajos  and  the 
Apaches;  but  that  they  are  believed  in,  even  in 
Isleta,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  They  were  the  ones 
who  led  mankind  forth  from  its  first  home  in  the 
dark  center  of  the  earth.1  The  rainbow  is  their 
bow,  the  lightnings  are  their  arrows.  Among  the 
other  Pueblos  there  are  countless  folk-stories  about 
these  Hero  Twins ;  and  the  following  example 
myth  will  quickly  remind  you  of  the  boys  who 
played  hide-and-seek.  It  is  told  in  Isleta,  though 
I  have  never  heard  it  from  the  Tee-wahn  people 
there.  Ever  since  the  great  drouth  of  a  genera- 
tion ago,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  Queres, 
starved  out  from  the  pueblos  of  Acoma  and  La- 
guna,  have  dwelt  in  Isleta,  and  they  are  now  a 

1  They  are  represented  in  the  sacred  dances  by  the  Kah-pee-6o-nin,  "the 
Dying-of-Cold"  (because  they  are  always  naked  except  for  the  breech-clout). 


206 


THE   HERO   TWINS  207 

permanent  part  of  the  village,  recognized  by  rep- 
resentation in  the  civil  and  religious  government, 
though  speaking  an  altogether  different  language. 
Tee-wahn  and  Oueres  cannot  understand  each 
other  in  their  own  tongues,  so  they  have  to  com- 
municate in  Spanish.  ^ 

Maw-Sahv  and  O6-yah-wee,  as  the  Hero  Twins 
are  named  in  Queres,  had  the  Sun  for  a  father. 
Their  mother  died  when*  they  were  born,  and  lay 
lifeless  upon  the  hot  plain.  But  the  two  wonderful 
boys,  as  soon  as  they  were  a  minute  old,  were  big 
and  strong,  and  began  playing. 

There  chanced  to  be  in  a  cliff  to  the  southward  a 
nest  of  white  crows  ;  and  presently  the  young  crows 
said:  "  Nana,  what  is  that  over  there?  Isn't  it 
two  babies  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Mother- Crow,  when  she  had 
taken  a  look.  "  Wait  and  I  will  bring  them."  So 
she  brought  the  boys  safely,  and  then  their  dead 
mother ;  and,  rubbing  a  magic  herb  on  the  body 
of  the  latter,  soon  brought  her  to  life. 

By  this  time  Maw-Sahv  and  O6-yah-wee  were 
sizable  boys,  and  the  mother  started  homeward 
with  them. 

"  Now,"  said  she  when  they  reached  the  edge  of 
the  valley  and  could  look  across  to  that  wondrous 
rock  whereon  stands  Acoma,  "go  to  yonder  town, 
my  sons,  for  that  is  Ah-ko,  where  live  your  grand- 
father and  grandmother,  my  parents ;  and  I  will 
wait  here.  Go  ye  in  at  the  west  end  of  the  town 
and^  stand  at  the  south  end  of  the  council-grounds 
until  some  one  speaks  to  you  ;  and  ask  them  to 
take  you  to  the  Cacique,  for  he  is  your  grandfather. 


208  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

You  will  know  his  house,  for  the  ladder  to  it  has 
three  uprights  instead  of  two.  When  you  go  in 
and  tell  your  story,  he  will  ask  you  a  question  to 
see  if  you  are  really  his  grandchildren,  and  will 
give  you  four  chances  to  answer  what  he  has  in  a 
bag  in  the  corner.  No  one  has  ever  been  able  to 
guess  what  is  in  it,  but  there  are  birds." 

The  Twins  did  as  they  were  bidden,  and 
presently  came  to  Acoma  and  found  the  house  of 
the  old  Cacique.  When  they  entered  and  told 
their  story,  he  said:  "Now  I  will  try  you.  What 
is  in  yonder  bag  ?  " 

"  A  rattlesnake,"  said  the  boys. 

"No,"  said  the  Cacique,  "it  is  not  a  rattlesnake. 
Try  again." 

"  Birds,"  said  the  boys. 

"  Yes,  they  are  birds.  Now  I  know  that  you  are 
truly  my  grandchildren,  for  no  one  else  could  ever 
guess."  And  he  welcomed  them  gladly,  and  sent 
them  back  with  new  dresses  and  jewelry  to  bring 
their  mother. 

When  she  was  about  to  arrive,  the  Twins  ran 
ahead  to  the  house  and  told  her  father,  mother,  and 
sister  to  leave  the  house  until  she  should  enter;  but 
not  knowing  what  was  to  come,  they  would  not  go 
out.  When  she  had  climbed  the  big  ladder  to  the 
roof  and  started  down  through  the  trap-door  by 
the  room-ladder,  her  sister  cried  out  with  joy  at 
seeing  her,  and  she  was  so  startled  that  she  fell 
from  the  ladder  and  broke  her  neck,  and  never 
could  be  brought  to  life  again. 

Maw-Sahv  and  O6-yah-wee  grew  up  to  as- 
tounding adventures  and  achievements.  While  still 


THE   HERO    TWINS  209 

very  young  in  years,  they  did  very  remarkable 
things ;  for  they  had  a  miraculously  rapid  growth, 
and  at  an  age  when  other  boys  were  toddling 
about  home,  these  Hero  Twins  had  already  be- 
come very  famous  hunters  and  warriors.  They 
were  very  fond  of  stories  of  adventure,  like  less 
precocious  lads;  and  after  the  death  of  their 
mother  they  kept  their  grandmother  busy  telling 
them  strange  tales.  She  had  a  great  many  an- 
ecdotes of  a  certain  ogre-giantess  who  lived  in  the 
dark  gorges  of  the  mountains  to  the  South,  and  so 
much  did  Maw-Sahv  and  O6-yah-wee  hear  of  this 
wonderful  personage — who  was  the  terror  of  all 
that  country —  that  their  boyish  ambition  was  fired. 

One  day  when  their  grandmother  was  busy  they 
stole  away  from  home  with  their  bows  and  arrows, 
and  walked  miles  and  miles,  till  they  came  to  a 
great  forest  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  In  the 
edge  of  it  sat  the  old  Giant- woman,  dozing  in  the 
sun,  with  a  huge  basket  beside  her.  She  was  so 
enormous  and  looked  so  fierce  that  the  boys'  hearts 
stood  still,  and  they  would  have  hidden,  but  just 
then  she  caught  sight  of  them,  and  called:  "  Come, 
little  boys,  and  get  into  this  basket  of  mine,  and  I 
will  take  you  to  my  house." 

"Very  well,"  said  Maw-Sahv,  bravely  hiding  his 
alarm.  "If  you  will  take  us  through  this  big 
forest,  which  we  would  like  to  see,  we  will  go  with 
you." 

The  Giant-woman  promised,  and  the  lads 
clambered  into  her  basket,  which  she  took  upon 
her  back  and  started  off.  As  she  passed  through 
the  woods,  the  boys  grabbed  lumps  of  pitch  from  the 


210  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

tall  pines  and  smeared  it  all  over  her  head  and 
back  so  softly  that  she  did  not  notice  it.  Once  she 
sat  down  to  rest,  and  the  boys  slyly  put  a  lot  of  big 
stones  in  the  basket,  set  fire  to  her  pitched  hair, 
and  hurriedly  climbed  a  tall  pine. 

Presently  the  Giant-woman  got  up  and  started 
on  toward  home ;  but  in  a  minute  or  two  her  head 
and  mania  were  all  of  a  blaze.  With  a  howl  that 
shook  the  earth,  she  dropped  the  basket  and  rolled 
on  the  ground,  grinding  her  great  head  into  the 
sand  until  she  at  last  got  the  fire  extinguished. 
But  she  was  badly  scorched  and  very  angry,  and 
still  angrier  when  she  looked  in  the  basket  and 
found  only  a  lot  of  stones.  She  retraced  her  steps 
until  she  found  the  boys  hidden  in  the  pine-tree, 
and  said  to  them  :  "  Come  down,  children,  and  get 
into  my  basket,  that  I  may  take  you  to  my  house, 
for  now  we  are  almost  there." 

The  boys,  knowing  that  she  could  easily  break 
down  the  tree  if  they  refused,  came  down.  They 
got  into  the  basket,  and  soon  she  brought  them  to 
her  home  in  the  mountain.  She  set  them  down 
upon  the  ground  and  said:  ''Now,  boys,  go  and 
bring  me  a  lot  of  wood,  that  I  may  make  a  fire  in 
the  oven  and  bake  you  some  sweet  cakes." 

The  boys  gathered  a  big  pile  of  wood,  with 
which  she  built  a  roaring  fire  in  the  adobe  oven 
outside  the  house.  Then  she  took  them  and 
washed  them  very  carefully,  and  taking  them  by 
the  necks,  thrust  them  into  the  glowing  oven  and 
sealed  the  door  with  a  great,  flat  rock,  and  left 
them  there  to  be  roasted. 

But  the  Trues  were  friends  of  the  Hero  Twins, 


THE    HERO    TWINS  211 

and  did  not  let  the  heat  harm  them  at  all.  When 
the  old  Giant-woman  had  gone  into  the  house, 
Maw-Sahv  and  O6-yah-wee  broke  the  smaller 
stone  that  closed  the  smoke-hole  of  the  oven,  and 
crawled  out  from  their  fiery  prison  unsinged. 
They  ran  around  and  caught  snakes  and  toads 
and  gathered  up  dirt  and  dropped  them  down  into 
the  oven  through  the  smoke-hole ;  and  then, 
watching  when  the  Giant-woman's  back  was 
turned,  they  sneaked  into  the  house  and  hid  in  a 
huge  olla  on  the  shelf. 

Very  early  in  the  morning  the  Giant-woman's 
baby  began  to  cry  for  some  boy-meat.  "  Wait  till 
it  is  well  cooked,"  said  the  mother;  and  hushed 
the  child  till  the  sun  was  well  up.  Then  she  went 
out  and  unsealed  the  oven,  and  brought  in  the  sad 
mess  the  boys  had  put  there.  "  They  have  cooked 
away  to  almost  nothing,"  she  said;  and  she  and 
the  Giant-baby  sat  down  to  eat.  "  Is  n't  this 
nice?"  said  the  baby;  and  Maw-Sahv  could  not 
help  saying,  "  You  nasty  things,  to  like  that! " 

"Eh?  Who  is  that?"  cried  the  Giant- woman, 
looking  around  till  she  found  the  boys  hidden  in 
the  olla.  So  she  told  them  to  come  down,  and 
gave  them  some  sweet  cakes,  and  then  sent  them 
out  to  bring  her  some  more  wood. 

It  was  evening  when  they  returned  with  a  big 
load  of  wood,  which  Maw-Sahv  had  taken  pains  to 
get  green.  He  had  also  picked  up  in  the  moun- 
tains a  long,  sharp  splinter  of  quartz.1  The  even- 
ing was  cool,  and  they  built  a  big  fire  in  the  fire- 
place. But  immediately,  as  the  boys  had  planned, 

1  A  thunder-knife. 


212  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

the  green  wood  began  to  smoke  at  a  dreadful  rate, 
and  soon  the  room  was  so  dense  with  it  that  they 
all  began  to  cough  and  strangle.  The  Giant-wo- 
man got  up  and  opened  the  window  and  put  her 
head  out  for  a  breath  of  fresh  air;  and  Maw-Sahv, 
pulling  out  the  white-hot  splinter  of  quartz  from 
the  fire,  stabbed  her  in  the  back  so  that  she  died. 
Then  they  killed  the  Giant-baby,  and  at  last  felt 
that  they  were  safe. 

Now  the  Giant-woman's  house  was  a  very  large 
one,  and  ran  far  back  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
mountain.  Having  got  rid  of  their  enemies,  the 
Hero  Twins  decided  to  explore  the  house ;  and, 
taking  their  bows  and  arrows,  started  boldly  down 
into  the  deep,  dark  rooms.  After  traveling  a  long 
way  in  the  dark,  they  came  to  a  huge  room  in 
which  corn  and  melons  and  pumpkins  were  grow- 
ing abundantly.  On  and  on  they  went,  till  at  last 
they  heard  the  growl  of  distant  thunder.  Follow- 
ing the  sound,  they  came  presently  to  a  room  in 
the  solid  rock,  wherein  the  lightning  was  stored. 
Going  in,  they  took  the  lightning  and  played  with  it 
awhile,  throwing  it  from  one  to  the  other,  and  at  last 
started  home,  carrying  their  strange  toy  with  them. 

When  they  reached  Acoma  and  told  their  grand- 
mother of  their  wonderful  adventures,  she  held  up 
her  withered  old  hands  in  amazement.  And  she 
was  nearly  scared  to  death  when  they  began  to 
play  with  the  lightning,  throwing  it  around  the 
house  as  though  it  had  been  a  harmless  ball,  while 
the  thunder  rumbled  till  it  shook  the  great  rock  of 
Acoma.  They  had  the  blue  lightning  which  be- 
longs in  the  West;  and  the  yellow  lightning  of  the 


THE   HERO   TWINS  213 

North  ;  and  the  red  lightning  of  the  East ;  and  the 
white  lightning  of  the  South ;  and  with  all  these 
they  played  merrily. 

But  it  was  not  very  long  till  Shee-wo-nah,  the 
Storm-King,  had  occasion  to  use  the  lightning; 
and  when  he  looked  in  the  room  where  he  was 
wont  to  keep  it,  and  found  it  gone,  his  wrath  knew 
no  bounds.  He  started  out  to  find  who  had  stolen 
it;  and  passing  by  Acoma  he  heard  the  thunder  as 
the  Hero  Twins  were  playing  ball  with  the  light- 
ning. He  pounded  on  the  door  and  ordered  them 
to  give  him  his  lightning,  but  the  boys  refused. 
Then  he  summoned  the  storm,  and  it  began  to  rain 
and  blow  fearfully  outside ;  while  within  the  boys 
rattled  their  thunder  in  loud  defiance,  regardless 
of  their  grandmother's  entreaties  to  give  the  Storm- 
King  his  lightning. 

It  kept  raining  violently,  however,  and  the  water 
came  pouring  down  the  chimney  until  the  room 
was  nearly  full,  and  they  were  in  great  danger  of 
drowning.  But  luckily  for  them,  the  Trues  were 
still  mindful  of  them  ;  and  just  in  the  nick  of  time 
sent  their  servant,  Tee-oh-pee,  the  Badger,  who  is 
the  best  of  diggers,  to  dig  a  hole  up  through  the 
floor;  all  the  water  ran  out,  and  they  were  saved. 
And  so  the  Hero  Twins  outwitted  the  Storm- King. 

South  of  Acoma,  in  the  pine-clad  gorges  and 
mesas,  the  world  was  full  of  Bears.  There  was 
one  old  She- Bear  in  particular,  so  huge  and  fierce 
that  all  men  feared  her ;  and  not  even  the  boldest 
hunter  dared  go  to  the  south — for  there  she  had 
her  home  with  her  two  sons. 


214  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

Maw-sahv  and  O6-yah-wee  were  famous  hunt- 
ers, and  always  wished  to  go  south ;  but  their 
grandmother  always  forbade  them.  One  day, 
however,  they  stole  away  from  the  house,  and  got 
into  the  canon.  At  last  they  came  to  the  She- 
Bear's  house ;  and  there  was  old  Quee-ah  asleep 
in  front  of  the  door.  Maw-sahv  crept  up  very 
carefully  and  threw  in  her  face  a  lot  of  ground 
chile,1  and  ran.  At  that  the  She- Bear  began  to 
sneeze,  ah-hutch  !  ah-hutch  !  She  could  not  stop, 
and  kept  making  ah-hutch  until  she  sneezed  her- 
self to  death. 

Then  the  Twins  took  their  thunder-knives  and 
skinned  her.  They  stuffed  the  great  hide  with 
grass,  so  that  it  looked  like  a  Bear  again,  and  tied 
a  buckskin  rope  around  its  neck. 

"Now,"  said  Maw-sahv,  "We  will  give  our 
grandma  a  trick  !  " 

So,  taking  hold  of  the  rope,  they  ran  toward 
Acoma,  and  the  Bear  came  behind  them  as  if  leap- 
ing. Their  grandmother  was  going  for  water; 
and  from  the  top  of  the  cliff  she  saw  them  running 
so  in  the  valley,  and  the  Bear  jumping  behind 
them.  She  ran  to  her  house  and  painted  one  side 
of  her  face  black  with  charcoal,  and  the  other  side 
red  with  the  blood  of  an  animal ; 2  and,  taking  a  bag 
of  ashes,  ran  down  the  cliff  and  out  at  the  Bear,  to 
make  it  leave  the  boys  and  come  after  her. 

But  when  she  saw  the  trick,  she  reproved  the 
boys  for  their  rashness  —  but  in  her  heart  she  was 
very  proud  of  them. 

1  The  fiery  red-pepper  of  the  Southwest. 
2  Ancient  tokens  of  mourning. 


XXX 

THE    HUNGRY    GRANDFATHERS 

A  DISOBEDIENT  child  is  something  I  have 
A~lL  never  seen  among  the  Pueblos,  in  all  the 
years  I  have  lived  with  them.  The  parents  are 
very  kind,  too.  My  little  amigos  in  Isleta  and  the 
other  Pueblo  towns  —  for  they  are  my  friends  in  all 
—  are  never  spoiled  ;  but  neither  are  they  punished 
much.1  Personal  acquaintance  with  a  spanking  is 
what  very  few  of  them  have.  The  idea  of  obedi- 
ence is  inborn  and  inbred.  A  word  is  generally 
enough ;  and  for  extreme  cases  it  only  needs  the 
threat:  "  Look  out,  or  I  will  send  for  the  Grand- 
fathers!" 

Now,  perhaps  you  do  not  know  who  the  Grand- 
fathers are ;  but  every  Pueblo  youngster  does.  It 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  "truly"  grandpa,  who 
is  as  lovely  an  institution  among  the  Tee-wahn  as 
anywhere  else.  No,  the  Abuelos  were  of  an  alto- 
gether different  sort.  That  name  is  Spanish,  and 
has  three  applications  in  Isleta :  real  grandpa- 
rents ;  the  remarkable  masked  officials  of  a  cer- 
tain dance ;  and  the  bad  Old  Ones.  These  last 

1 1  must  qualify  this  now.  In  the  last  two  years  I  have  seen  one  spoiled 
child — just  one,  in  ten  years'  acquaintance  with  9000  Pueblos  ! 

215 


2i6  T£E-WAHN  P^OLK-STORIES 

are  called  in  the  Tee-wahn  tongue  T'ai-kdr-nin 
(Those- Who-Eat-People).  They  were,  in  fact,  abo- 
riginal Ogres,  who  once  sadly  ravaged  Isleta. 

The  T'ai-kdr-nin  had  no  town,  but  dwelt  in 
caves  of  the  lava  mountain  a  couple  of  miles  west 
of  this  village  —  the  Ku-mai  hill.  It  is  a  bad 
place  at  best:  bleak,  black,  rough,  and  forbidding 
—  just  the  place  that  a  properly  constituted  Ogre 
would  choose  for  his  habitation.  In  the  first  place, 
it  is  to  the  west  of  the  town,  which  is  "bad  medi- 
cine" in  itself  to  any  Indian,  for  that  point  of  the 
compass  belongs  to  the  dead  and  to  bad  spirits. 
Then  its  color  is  against  it;  and,  still  worse;  it  is  to 
this  day  the  common  stamping-ground  of  all  the 
witches  in  this  part  of  the  country,  where  they 
gather  at  night  for  their  diabolical  caucuses.  Of 
its  serious  disrepute  I  can  convey  no  better  idea 
to  the  enlightened  and  superstitionless  American 
mind  than  by  saying  that  it  is  a  sort  of  aboriginal 
"  haunted  house." 

So  the  hill  of  Ku-mai  was  a  peculiarly  fit  place 
for  the  Ogres  to  dwell  in.  Deep  in  its  gloomy 
bowels  they  huddled  on  the  white  sand  which  floors 
all  the  caves  there ;  and  crannies  overhead  carried 
away  the  smoke  from  their  fires,  which  curled  from 
crevices  at  the  top  of  the  peak  far  above  them. 
Ignorant  Americans  would  probably  have  taken  it 
for  a  volcanic  emission  ;  but  the  good  people  of 
Shee-eh-whib-bak  knew  better. 

These  Ogres  were  larger  than  ordinary  men, 
but  otherwise  carried  no  outward  sign  of  their  odi- 
ous calling.  Their  teeth  were  just  like  anybody's 
good  teeth,  and  they  had  neither  " tushes"  nor 


THE   HUNGRY   GRANDFATHERS  217 

horns  nor  hoofs.  Indeed,  except  for  their  unusual 
size,  they  would  have  been  easily  mistaken  for 
Indians  of  some  distant  tribe.  But,  ay  de  mi! 
How  strong  they  were !  One  could  easily  whip 
five  common  men  in  a  bunch — "men  even  as 
strong  as  my  son,  Francisco,"  says  Desiderio;  and 
Francisco  is  as  stout  as  a  horse. 

They  were  people  of  very  fastidious  palates, 
these  Ogres.  Nothing  was  good  enough  for  them 
except  human  flesh  —  and  young  at  that.  Their 
fare  was  entirely  baby  —  baby  young,  baby  brown, 
and  baby  very  fat.  They  never  molested  the 
adults  ;  but  as  often  as  they  found  an  appetite  they 
descended  upon  the  village,  scooped  up  what  chil- 
dren they  could  lay  their  hands  upon,  and  carried 
them  off  to  their  caves.  There  they  had  enormous 
ollas,  into  which  half  a  dozen  children  could  be 
thrown  at  once. 

There  seemed  to  be  some  spell  about  these 
Ogres  —  besides  their  frequent  hungry  spells  —  for 
the  Pueblos,  who  were  so  brave  in  the  face  of  other 
foes,  never  dared  fight  these  terrible  cave-dwellers. 
They  continued  to  devastate  the  village,  until 
babies  were  at  a  premium,  and  few  to  be  had  at 
any  price ;  and  the  only  way  the  people  dared  to 
try  to  circumvent  them  was  by  strategy.  In  time 
it  came  about  that  every  house  where  there  were 
children,  or  a  reasonable  hope  of  them,  had  secret 
cubby-holes  back  of  the  thick  adobe  walls ;  with 
little  doors  which  shut  flush  with  the  wall  and  were 
also  plastered  with  adobe,  so  that  when  they  were 
shut  a  stranger  —  even  if  he  were  a  sharp-eyed 
Indian — would  never  dream  of  their  existence. 


218  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

And  whenever  arose  the  dreaded  cry,  "  Here  come 
the  T'ai-kdr-nin ! "  the  children  were  hustled, 
shivering  and  noiseless,  into  the  secret  recesses, 
and  the  doors  were  shut.  Then  Mr.  Ogre  could 
come  in  and  peer  and  sniff  about  as  he  liked,  but 
no  chance  to  fill  his  market-basket  could  he  find. 
And  when  parents  were  forced  to  go  away  and 
leave  the  babies  behind,  the  poor  young  ones  were 
inclosed  in  their  safe  but  gloomy  prisons,  and  there 
in  darkness  and  silence  had  to  await  the  parental 
home-coming.  These  inconveniences  were  gladly 
borne,  however,  since  they  preserved  the  children 

—  and  we  all  know  that  preserved  baby  is  better 
than  baby-stew.      It  was,  of  course,  rather  rough 
on  the  Ogres,  who  began   to   find  all   their  belts 
most   distressfully  loose;    but  no   one  seemed    to 
consider   their   feelings.      They  were    pretty  well 
starved  when  the  Spaniards  came  and  delivered 
the  suffering  Isletenos  by  driving  off  these  savage 
neighbors.     This  looks  suspiciously  as  if  the  whole 
myth  of  the  Ogres  had  sprung  from  the  attacks  of 
the  cruel  Apaches  and  Navajos  in  the  old  days. 

There  was  one  queer  thing  about  these  Ogres 

—  on    their   forages    they  always  wore    buckskin 
masks,  just  like  those  of  the  Abuelos  of  the  sacred 
dance.     Their  bare  faces  were  seen  sometimes  by 
hunters  who  encountered  them  on   the  llano,  but 
never   here    in  town.     It  was  in  connection  with 
these  masks  that  Isleta  had  a  great  sensation  re- 
cently.    The  Hungry  Grandfathers  had  been  al- 
most forgotten,  except  as  a  word  to  change  the 
minds  of  children  who  had  about  quarter  of  a  mincl 
to  be  naughty ;    but  interest  was  revived  by  a  dis- 


THE   HUNGRY   GRANDFATHERS  219 

covery  of  which  my  venerable  friend  Desiderio 
Peralta  was  the  hero. 

This  dear  old  man  —  news  of  his  death  has  come 
to  me  as  I  write  this  very  chapter — was  a  remark- 
able character.  He  was  one  of  "the  oldest  inhab- 
itants" of  New  Mexico  —  older  than  any  other 
Indian  among  the  twelve  hundred  of  Isleta,  except 
tottering  Diego;  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal. 
His  hair  was  very  gray,  and  his  kindly  old  face 
such  an  incredible  mass  of  wrinkles  that  I  used  to 
fancy  Father  Time  himself  must  have  said:  "No, 
no !  You  apprentices  never  do  a  thing  right ! 
Here,  this  is  the  way  to  put  on  wrinkles !  "  and  that 
he  then  and  there  took  old  Desiderio  for  a  model, 
and  showed  the  journeymen  wrinkle-makers  a  trick 
they  never  dreamed  of.  Certainly  the  job  was  never 
so  well  done  before.  From  chin  to  hair-roots, 
from  ear  to  ear,  was  such  a  crowded,  tangled,  in- 
extricable maze  of  furrows  and  cross-harrow  lines  as 
I  firmly  believe  never  dwelt  together  on  any  other 
one  human  face.  Why,  Desiderio  could  have  fur- 
nished an  army  of  old  men  with  wrinkles  !  I  never 
saw  him  smile  without  fearing  that  some  of  those 
wrinkles  were  going  to  fall  off  the  edge,  so  crowd- 
ed were  they  at  best ! 

But  if  his  face  was  arrugada,  his  brain  was  not. 
He  was  bright  and  chipper  as  a  young  blackbird, 
and  it  was  only  of  late  that  a  touch  of  rheumatism 
took  the  youth  out  of  his  legs.  Until  recently  he 
held  the  important  position  of  Captain  of  War 
for  the  pueblo ;  and  only  two  years  ago  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  going  with  two  hundred  other  Indians 
on  a  huge  rabbit-hunt  which  was  under  his  per- 


220  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

sonal  supervision,  and  in  which  he  was  as  active  as 
any  one,  both  on  his  feet  and  with  the  unerring 
boomerang.  His  eyes  were  good  to  find  about  as 
much  through  the  sights  of  a  rifle  as  anybody's ; 
and  on  the  whole  he  was  worth  a  good  deal  more 
than  1  expect  to  be  some  seventy  years  from  now. 
He  was  a  good  neighbor,  too ;  and  I  had  few 
pleasanter  hours  than  those  spent  in  talking  with 
this  genial  old  shrivel,  who  was  muy  sabio  in  all 
the  folk'- lore  and  wisdom  of  his  unfathomable  race  ; 
and  very  close-mouthed  about  it,  too  —  as  they  all 
are.  Still,  there  were  some  things  which  he  seemed 
willing  to  confide  to  me  ;  and  he  always  had  an  at- 
tentive listener. 

Desiderio  was  not  yet  too  old  to  herd  his  own 
cattle  during  the  season  when  they  roam  abroad; 
and,  while  thus  engaged,  he  made  a  discovery 
which  set  the  whole  quiet  village  agog,  though 
no  other  outsider  ever  heard  of  it. 

One  day  in  1889  Desiderio  started  out  from  the 
village,  driving  his  cattle.  Having  steered  them 
across  the  acequia  and  up  the  sand-hills  to  the  be- 
ginning of  the  plain,  he  climbed  to  the  top  of  the 
Ku-mai  to  watch  them  through  the  day — as  has 
been  the  custom  of  Isleta  herders  from  time  imme- 
morial. In  wandering  over  the  rocky  top  of  the 
peak,  he  came  to  a  ledge  of  rocks  on  the  southeast 
spur  of  the  hill ;  and  there  found  a  fissure,  at  one 
end  of  which  was  a  hole  as  large  as  a  man's  head. 
Desiderio  put  his  face  and  his  wrinkles  down  to 
the  hole  to  see  what  he  could  see;  and  all  was 
dark  inside.  But  if  his  eyes  strained  in  vain,  his 
ears  did  not.  From  far  down  in  the  bowels  of  the 


THE   HUNGRY   GRANDFATHERS  221 

mountain  came  a  strange  roaring,  as  of  a  heavy 
wind.  Desiderio  was  somewhat  dismayed  at  this ; 
for  he  knew  at  once  that  he  had  found  one  of  the 
chimneys  of  the  Ogres;  but  he  did  not  run  away. 
Hunting  around  awhile,  he  found  in  the  fissures 
of  the  rocks  some  ancient  buckskin  masks — the 
very  ones  worn  by  the  Ogres,  of  course.  He  put 
them  back,  and  coming  to  town  straightway  told 
the  medicine-men  of  the  Black  Eyes — one  of  the 
two  parties  here.  They  held  a  junta;  and  after 
mature  deliberation  decided  to  go  and  get  the 
masks.  This  was  done,  and  the  masks  are  now 
treasured  in  the  Black  Eye  medicine-house. 

I  have  several  times  carefully  explored  the  Ku- 
mai — a  difficult  and  tiresome  task,  thanks  to  the 
knife-like  lava  fragments  which  cover  it  every- 
where, and  which  will  cut  a  pair  of  new  strong 
shoes  to  pieces  in  an  afternoon.  It  is  true  that 
in  this  hill  of  bad  repute  there  are  several  lava- 
caves,  with  floors  of  white  sand  blown  in  from  the 
llano  ;  and  that  in  these  caves  there  are  a  few  hu- 
man bones.  No  doubt  some  of  the  savage  nomads 
camped  or  lived  there.  None  of  those  famous  ollas 
are  visible  ;  nor  have  I  ever  been  able  to  find  any 
other  relics  of  the  Hungry  Grandfathers. 


XXXI 


ALL  the  animals  with  which  the  Tee-wahn  are 
/  JL  familiar — the  buffalo  (which  they  used  to  hunt 
on  the  vast  plains  to  the  eastward),  the  bear,  deer, 
antelope,  mountain  lion,  badger,  wild  turkey,  fox, 
eagle,  crow,  buzzard,  rabbit,  and  so  on — appear  in 
their  legends  and  fairy  tales,  as  well  as  in  their  re- 
ligious ceremonials  and  beliefs.  Too-whay-deh, 
the  Coyote,1  or  little  prairie  wolf,  figures  in  count- 
less stories,  and  always  to  his  own  disadvantage. 
Smart  as  he  is  in  some  things,  he  believes  what- 
ever is  told  him ;  and  by  his  credulity  becomes  the 
butt  of  all  the  other  animals,  who  never  tire  of 
"April-fooling"  him.  He  is  also  a  great  coward. 
To  call  an  Indian  here  "Too-whdy-deh"  is  one  of 
the  bitterest  insults  that  can  be  offered  him. 

1  Pronounced  Coy-6h-ty. 


THE   COYOTE  223 

You  have  already  heard  how  the  Coyote  fared 
at  the  hands  of  the  fun-loving*  Bear,  and  of  the 
Crows  and  the  Blackbirds.  A  very  popular  tale  is 
that  of  his  adventure  with  a  bright  cousin  of  his. 

Once  upon  a  time  Too-whay-shur-wee-deh,  the 
Little- Blue-Fox,1  was  wandering  near  a  pueblo, 
and  chanced  to  come  to  the  threshing-floors,  where 
a  great  many  crows  were  hopping.  Just  then  the 
Coyote  passed,  very  hungry  ;  and  while  yet  far  off, 
said:  "Ai!  how  the  stomach  cries!  'I  will  just 
eat  Little- Blue-Fox."  And  coming,  he  said: 

''Now,  Little-Blue-Fox,  you  have  troubled  me 
enough !  You  are  the  cause  of  my  being  chased 
by  the  dogs  and  people,  and  now  I  will  pay  you.  I 
am  going  to  eat  you  up  this  very  now !  " 

"  No,  Coyote-friend,"  answered  the  Ltttle-Blue- 
Fox,  "dorit  eat  me  up  !  I  am  here  guarding  these 
chickens,  for  there  is  a  wedding  in  yonder  house, 
which  is  my  master's,  and  these  chickens  are  for 
the  wedding-dinner.  Soon  they  will  come  for  the 
chickens;  and  will  invite  me  to  the  dinner — and 
you  can  come  also." 

"Well,"  said  the  Coyote,  "if  that  is  so,  I  will 
not  eat  you,  but  will  help  you  watch  the  chickens." 
So  he  lay  down  beside  him. 

At  this,  Little-Blue-Fox  was  troubled,  thinking 
how  to  get  away  ;  and  at  last  he  said  : 

"Friend  Too-whay-deh,  I  make  strange  that 
they  have  not  before  now  come  for  the  chickens. 
Perhaps  they  have  forgotten.  The  best  way  is  for 

1  He  is  always  a  hero,  and  as  smart  as  the  Coyote  is  stupid.  His  beauti- 
ful pelt  is  an  important  part  of  the  costume  worn  in  many  of  the  sacred 
dances  of  the  Tee-wahn. 


224  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

me  to  go  to  the  house  and  see  what  the  servants 
are  doing." 

"It  is  well, "said  the  Coyote.  "  Go,  then,  and 
I  will  guard  the  chickens  for  you." 

So  the  Little- Blue-Fox  started  toward  the  house  ; 
but  getting  behind  a  small  hill,  he  ran  away  with 
fast  feet.  When  it  was  a  good  while,  and  he  did 
not  come  back,  the  Coyote  thought:  "  While  he  is 
gone,  I  will  give  myself  some  of  the  chickens." 
Crawling  up  on  his  belly  to  the  threshing-floor,  he 
gave  a  great  leap.  But  the  chickens  were  only 
crows,  and  they  flew  away.  Then  he  began  to 
say  evil  of  the  Little-Blue-Fox  for  giving  him  a 
trick,  and  started  on  the  trail,  vowing  :  "  I  will  eat 
him  up  wherever  I  catch  him." 

After  many  miles  he  overtook  the  Little- Blue- 
Fox,  and  with  a  bad  face  said:  "  Here !  Now  I  am 
going  to  eat  you  up !  " 

•The  other  made  as  if  greatly  excited,  and  an- 
swered :  "  No,  friend  Coyote  !  Do  you  not  hear 
that  tombW 

The  Coyote  listened,  and  heard  a  drum  in  the 
pueblo. 

" Well,"  said  the  Little-Blue-Fox,  "I  am  called 
for  that  dance,2  and  very  soon  they  will  come  for 
me.  Won't  you  go  too  ?  " 

"If  that  is  so,  I  will  not  eat  you,  but  we  will  go 
to  the  dance."  And  the  Coyote  sat  clown  and 
began  to  comb  his  hair  and  to  make  himself  pretty 
with  face-paint.  When  no  one  came,  the  Little- 
Blue-Fox  said : 

1  Pronounced  torn-bay.     The  sacred  drum  used  in  Pueblo  dances. 
2  In  all  such  Indian  dances  the  participants  are  named  by  the  officials. 


"THERE    THEY    STOOD    SIDE    BY    SIDE.' 


THE   COYOTE  227 

"  Friend  Coyote,  I  make  strange  that  the  al- 
guazil  does  not  come.  It  is  best  for  me  to  go  up 
on  this  hill,  whence  I  can  see  into  the  village. 
You  wait  here." 

"  He  will  not  dare  to  give  me  another  trick," 
thought  the  Coyote.  So  he  replied  :  "  It  is  well. 
But  do  not  forget  to  call  me." 

So  the  Little- Blue- Fox  went  up  the  hill ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight,  he  began  to  run 
for  his  life. 

Very  long  the  Coyote  waited ;  and  at  last,  being 
tired,  went  up  on  the  hill  —  but  there  was  no  one 
there.  Then  he  was  very  angry,  and  said :  "  I 
will  follow  him,  and  eat  him  surely  !  Nothing  shall 
save  him!"  And  finding  the  trail,  he  began  to 
follow  as  fast  as  a  bird. 

Just  as  the  Little-Blue-Fox  came  to  some  high 
cliffs,  he  looked  back  and  saw  the  Coyote  coming 
over  a  hill.  So  he  stood  up  on  his  hind  feet  and 
put  his  fore  paws  up  against  the  cliff,  and  made 
many  groans,  and  was  as  if  much  excited.  In  a 
moment  came  the  Coyote,  very  angry,  crying: 
"  Now  you  shall  not  escape  me  !  I  am  going  to  eat 
you  up  now  —  now!" 

"  Oh,  no,  friend  Too-whay-deh  !  "  said  the  other  ; 
"  for  I  saw  this  cliff  falling  down,  and  ran  to  hold 
it  up.  If  I  let  go,  it  will  fall  and  kill  us  both.  But 
come,  help  me  to  hold  it." 

Then  the  Coyote  stood  up  and  pushed  against 
the  cliff  with  his  fore  paws,  very  hard ;  and  there 
they  stood  side  by  side. 

Time  passing  so,  the  Little-Blue-Fox  said: 

"  Friend   Too-whay-cleh,  it    is    long    that  I    am 


228  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

holding  up  the  cliff,  and  I  am  very  tired  and  thirsty. 
You  are  fresher.  So  you  hold  up  the  cliff  while  I 
go  and  hunt  water  for  us  both  -,  for  soon  you  too 
will  be  thirsty.  There  is  a  lake  somewhere  on  the 
other  side  of  this  mountain ;  I  will  find  it  and  get  a 
drink,  and  then  come  back  and  hold  up  the  cliff 
while  you  go." 

The  Coyote  agreed,  and  the  Little-Blue-Fox 
ran  away  over  the  mountain  till  he  came  to  the 
lake,  just  as  the  moon  was  rising. 

But  soon  the  Coyote  was  very  tired  and  thirsty, 
for  he  held  up  the  cliff  with  all  his  might.  At  last 
he  said:  "Ai!  how  hard  it  is !  I  am  so  thirsty 
that  I  will  go  to  the  lake,  even  if  I  die  ! " 

So  he  began  to  let  go  of  the  cliff,  slowly,  slowly  — 
until  he  held  it  only  with  his  finger-nails  ;  and  then 
he  made  a  great  jump  away  backward,  and  ran  as 
hard  as  he  could  to  a  hill.  But  when  he  looked 
around  and  saw  that  the  cliff  did  not  fall,  he  was 
very  angry,  and  swore  to  eat  Too-whay-shur-wee- 
deh  the  very  minute  he  should  catch  him. 

Running  on  the  trail,  he  came  to  the  lake ;  and 
there  the  Little-Blue-Fox  was  lying  on  the  bank, 
whining  as  if  greatly  excited.  "Now  I  will  eat  you 
up,  this  minute  !  "  cried  the  Coyote.  But  the  other 
said  :  "  No,  Friend  Too-whay-deh !  Don't  eat  me 
up !  I  am  waiting  for  some  one  who  can  swim  as 
well  as  you  can.  I  just  bought  a  big  cheese1  from 
a  shepherd  to  share  with  you ;  but  when  I  went  to 
drink,  it  slipped  out  of  my  hands  into  the  water. 

1  Of  course  chickens  and  cheeses  were  not  known  to  the  Pueblos  before  the 
Spanish  conquest;  and  the  cheese  is  so  vital  a  part  of  the  story  that  I  hardly 
think  it  can  be  an  interpolation.  So  this  tale,  though  very  old,  is  probably 
not  ancient — that  is,  it  has  been  invented  since  1600. 


"'HOW    SHALL    I    GET    IT?'    SAID    THE    COYOTE." 


THE   COYOTE  231 

Come  here,  and  I  will  show  you."  He  took  the 
Coyote  to  the  edge  of  the  high  bank,»and  pointed 
to  the  moon  in  the  water. 

"  M  —  m!"  said  the  Coyote,  who  was  fainting 
with  hunger.  "  But  how  shall  I  get  it?  It  is  very 
deep  in  the  water,  and  I  shall  float  up  before  I  can 
dive  to  it." 

"That  is  true,  friend,"  said  the  other.  "There 
is  but  one  way.  We  must  tie  some  stones  to  your 
neck,  to  make  you  heavy  so  you  can  go  down 
to  it." 

So  they  hunted  about  until  they  found  a  buck- 
skin thong  and  some  large  stones ;  and  the  Little- 
Blue-Fox  tied  the  stones  to  the  Coyote's  neck,  the 
Coyote  holding  his  chin  up,  to  help. 

"  Now,  friend  Too-whay-deh,  come  here  to  the 
edge  of  the  bank  and  stand  ready.  I  will  take  you 
by  the  back  and  count  weem,  wee-si,  p'dh-chul 
And  when  I  say  three,  you  must  jump  and  I  will 
push — for  now  you  are  very  heavy." 

So  he  took  the  Coyote  by  the  back  of  the  neck, 
swaying  him  back  and  forth  as  he  counted.  And 
at  "p'dk-chu/"  he  pushed  hard,  and  the  Coyote 
jumped,  and  went  into  the  deep  water,  and  — 
never  came  out  again  ! 


XXXII 

DOCTOR    FIELD-MOUSE 

IT  was  the  evening-  of  the  I4th  of  March.  In 
the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande,  that  stands  at  the 
end  of  the  winter.  Now  it  is  to  open  the  big 
mother-canal  that  comes  from  the  river  to  all  the 
fields,  giving  them  to  drink  after  their  long  thirst ; 
and  now  to  plow  the  milpas,  and  to  uncover  the 
buried  grape-vines,  and  make  ready  for  the  far- 
mer's work. 

As  the  door  opened  to  admit  stalwart  Francisco 
to  the  big  flickering  room  where  we  were  all  sit- 
ting in  silence,  the  long,  shrill  wail  of  a  Coyote, 
away  up  on  the  Accursed  Hill,  blew  in  after  him 
on  the  boisterous  March  wind.  The  boys  pricked 
up  their  ears;  and  bright-faced  Manuelito1  turned 
to  his  white-headed  grandfather,  and  said  : 

"  Tata,  why  is  it  that  Too-whay-deh  always 
howls  so  ?  Perhaps  he  has  a  pain ;  for  he  has 
been  crying  ever  since  the  beginning  of  the  world 
— as  they  told  us  in  the  story  of  the  Fawns  and 
the  She-Wolf." 

"  What,  Unknowing  !  "  answered  the  old  man, 
kindly.  "  Hast  thou  never  heard  of  the  Coyote's 

1  Pronounced  Malm-\vay-l£e-to. 
232 


DOCTOR   FIELD-MOUSE  233 

toothache,  and  who  was  the  first  medicine-man  in 
all  the  world?  It  is  not  well  not  to  know  that; 
for  from  that  comes  all  that  we  know  to  cure  the 
sick.  And  for  that,  I  will  tell — but  it  is  the  last 
story  of  the  year.  For  to-morrow  is  Tu-shee-wim, 
the  Spring  Medicine- Dance ;  and  the  snakes  are 
coming  out  from  their  winter  houses.  After  that, 
we  must  not  tell  of  the  Things  of  Old.  For  it 
is  very  long  ago;  and  if  one  made  a  mistake  in 
telling,  and  said  that  which  was  not  all  true,  Ctidh- 
rah-rdk-deh  would  bite  him,  and  he  would  die.1 
But  this  one  I  will  tell  thee." 

In  the  First  Days,  when  the  people  had  broken 
through  the  crust  of  the  earth,  and  had  come  up 
out  of  their  dark  prison,  underground,  and  crossed 
Shee-p'ah-poon,  the  great  Black  Lake  of  Tears, 
they  came  to  the  shore  on  this  side.  Then  it  came 
that  all  the  animals  were  made ;  and  very  soon  the 
Coyote  was  sent  by  the  Trues  to  carry  a  buckskin 
bag  far  south,  and  not  to  open  it  until  he  should 
come  to  the  Peak  of  the  White  Clouds.  For 
many  days  he  ran  south,  with  the  bag  on  his  back. 
But  there  was  nothing  to  eat,  and  he  grew  very 
hungry.  At  last  he  thought:  "Perhaps  in  this 
bag  there  is  to  eat."  So  he  took  it  from  his  back, 
and  untied  the  thongs,  and  looked  in.  But  there 
was  nothing  in  it  except  the  stars ;  and  as  soon  as 
the  bag  was  opened  they  all  flew  up  into  the  sky, 
where  they  are  to  this  day. 

1  A  fixed  belief  among  the  Pueblos,  who  will  tell  none  of  their  myths  be- 
tween the  Spring  Medicine-Making,  in  March,  and  the  Fall  Medicine- Making, 
in  October,  lest  the  rattlesnake  punish  them  for  some  slip  from  the  truth. 


234  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

When  the  Trues  saw  that  Too-whay-deh  had 
disobeyed,  they  were  angry,  and  made  it  that  his 
punishment  should  be  to  wander  up  and  down  for- 
ever, howling  with  the  toothache  and  finding  no  rest. 

So  Too-whay-deh  went  out  with  his  toothache, 
running  all  over  the  world  groaning  and  crying; 
and  when  the  other  four-feet  slept  he  could  only 
sit  and  howl.  Because  he  came  to  talk  with  the 
other  animals,  if  they  could  not  cure  him,  they 
caught  the  toothache  too ;  and  that  is  the  reason 
why  they  sometimes  cry.  But  none  have  it  like 
the  Coyote,  who  can  find  no  rest. 

In  those  times  there  were  no  medicine-men  in 
the  world, —  not  even  of  the  people, — and  the  ani- 
mals found  no  cure. 

Time  passing  so,  it  came  one  day  that  T'hoo- 
chee-deh,  the  smallest  of  Mice,  who  lives  in  the  lit- 
tle mounds  around  the  chapparo-bush,  was  making 
his  road  underground,  when  he  came  to  a  kind  of 
root  with  a  sweet  smell.  T'hoo-chee-deh  was  very 
wise ;  and  he  took  the  root,  and  put  it  with  others 
in  a  buckskin  pouch  he  carried  under  his  left  arm. 

In  a  few  days  Kee-oo-ee-deh,  the  Prairie-Dog, 
came  with  his  head  all  fat  with  toothache,  and  said : 

"  Friend  Field-Mouse,  can  you  not  cure  me  of  this 
pain  ?  For  all  say  you  are  very  wise  with  herbs." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  answered  T'hoo-chee-deh. 
"  But  we  will  try.  For  I  have  found  a  new  root, 
and  perhaps  it  is  good." 

So  he  mixed  it  with  other  roots,  all  pounded, 
and  put  it  on  the  cheek  of  Kee-oo-ee-deh ;  and 
in  a  little,  the  toothache  was  gone. 

In    that  time   it   was  that  there  was  so   much 


DOCTOR   FIELD-MOUSE  235 

toothache  among  the  animals  that  the  Mountain 
Lion,  Commander  of  Beasts,  called  a  council  to 
see  what  should  be  done.  When  every  kind  that 
walks  on  the  ground  had  met,  he  asked  each  of 
them  if  they  had  found  no  cure ;  but  none  of  them 
knew  any.  The  Coyote  was  there,  howling  with 
pain  ;  but  all  the  other  sick  were  at  home. 

At  last  it  was  to  the  Field -Mo  use,  who  is  the 
smallest  of  all  animals,  and  who  did  not  wish  to 
seem  wise  until  all  the  greater  ones  had  spoken. 
When  the  Mountain  Lion  said,  "  And  thou,  T'hoo- 
chee-deh — hast  thou  a  cure?"  he  rose  in  his  place 
and  came  forward  modestly,  saying:  "  If  the  oth- 
ers will  allow  me,  and  with  the  help  of  the  Trues, 
I  will  try  what  I  found  last." 

Then  he  drew  from  his  left-hand  bag  the  roots 
one  by  one ;  and  last  of  all,  the  root  of  the  chee- 
ma-hdr,  explaining  what  it  had  done  for  Kee-oo- 
ee-deh.  He  pounded  it  to  powder  with  a  stone, 
and  mixed  it  with  fat ;  and  spreading  it  on  flat 
leaves,  put  it  to  the  Coyote's  jaw.  And  in  a  little 
the  pain  was  gone.1 

At  that  the  Mountain  Lion,  the  Bear,  the  Buf- 
falo, and  all  the  other  Captains  of  Four-feet,  de- 
clared T'hoo-chee-deh  the  Father-of-All-Medicine. 
They  made  a  strong  law  that  from  that  time  the 
body  of  the  Field-Mouse  should  be  held  sacred,  so 
that  no  animal  dares  to  kill  him  or  even  to  touch  him 
dead.  And  so  it  remains  to  this  day.  But  only  the 

iThis  cure  is  still  practised  among  the  Tee-warm.  The  sovereign  remedy 
for  toothache,  however,  is  to  go  to  the  estufa  after  dark,  carrying  food  in  the 
left  hand,  march  round  inside  the  big  circular  room  three  times,  leave  the 
food  under  the  secret  recess  in  the  wall  where  the  scalps  taken  in  old  wars  are 
kept,  and  then  come  out.  The  toothache  is  always  left  behind ! 


236  TEE-WAHN   FOLK-STORIES 

birds  and  the  snakes,  who  were  not  at  the  Council  of 
the  Four  feet,  they  do  not  respect  T'hoo-chee-deh. 

So  the  Field-Mouse  was  the  first  medicine-man. 
He  chose  one  of  each  kind  of  four-feet  to  be  his 
assistants,  and  taught  them  the  use  of  all  herbs, 
and  how  to  cure  pain,  so  that  each  might  practise 
among  his  own  people  —  a  Bear-doctor  for  the 
Bears,  and  a  Wolf-doctor  for  the  Wolves,  and  so  to 
all  the  tribes  of  the  animals. 

Of  those  he  taught,  there  was  one  who  was  not 
a  True  Believer — the  Badger.  But  he  listened 
also,  and  made  as  if  he  believed  all.  With  time, 
the  teaching  was  done;  and  T'hoo-chee-deh  sent 
all  his  assistant  doctors  home  to  their  own  peoples 
to  heal.  But  whenever  one  of  them  was  asked 
with  the  sacred  corn-meal1  to  come  and  cure  a  sick 
one,  he  always  came  first  to  get  the  Father,  the 
Field-Mouse,  to  accompany  and  help  him. 

But  all  this  time  Kahr-nai-deh,  the  Badger,  was 
not  believing;  and  at  last  he  said  to  his  wife  : 

"  Now  I  will  see  if  Old  T'hoo-chee-deh  is  really  a 
medicine-man.  If  he  finds  me,  I  will  believe  him." 

So  from  that  day  for  four  days  the  Badger 
touched  no  food,  until  he  was  almost  dead.  And 
on  the  fifth  day  he  said : 

"Tn-hlee-oo  wdy-ee,  wife  of  me,  go  now  and  call 
T'hoo-chee-deh,  to  see  if  he  will  cure  me." 

So  the  Badger-wife  went  with  meal  to  the  house 
of  the  Field-Mouse,  making  to  be  very  sad ;  and 
brought  him  back  with  her.  When  they  came,  the 
Badger  was  as  if  very  sick  and  in  great  pain. 

1  The  necessary  accompaniment,  among  the  Pueblos,  of  a  call  for  the 
doctor.  In  some  cases,  the  sacred  sin  ok  ing-herb  was  used.  Either  article 
was  wrapped  in  corn-husk.  See,  also,  "Some  Strange  Corners  of  Our 
Country,"  chapters  xviii  and  xx. 


DOCTOR   FIELD-MOUSE  237 

Thoo-chee-deh  asked  nothing ;  but  took  off  the 
little  pouch  of  roots  and  laid  it  beside  him.  And 
then  rubbing  a  little  wood-ashes  on  his  hands,  he 
put  them  on  the  stomach  and  breast  of  the  Badger, 
rubbing  and  feeling.  When  he  had  felt  the  Bad- 
ger's stomach,  he  began  to  sing : 

Kdhr-nah-liloo-hlee  wee-emt-f  hit 
Beh-hu  hoo-bdhn, 
Ah-ndh  kdh-chah-hitn-ai 
T'hoo-chee-hloa-hlee  Poh-ah-yin-dhb 

Wee-end-fhu  beh-hu  hoo-bdhn. 

•. 

(Badger-Old-Man  four  days 
Has  the  hunger-killing, 
To  know,  to  know  surely 
If  Field-Mouse-Old-Man 
Has  the  Medicine  Power. 
Four  days,  four  days, 
He  has  the  hunger-killing.) 

When  he  had  finished  rubbing  and  singing,  he  said 
to  the  Badger : 

"There  is  no  need  of  a  remedy.  In  my  teach- 
ing I  found  you  attentive — now  be  true.  You 
have  wasted,  in  trying  my  power.  Now  get  up 
and  eat,  to  make  up  for  the  lost.  And  do  not 
think  that  way  again." 

With  that,  he  took  his  pouch  of  roots  and  went 
home.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  the  house,  the 
Badger  said  to  his  wife : 

o 

11  My  wife,  now  I  believe  that  Mouse-Old-Man  has 
the  Power ;  and  never  again  will  I  think  that  way." 

Then  the  Badger-wife  brought  food,  and  he 
ate — for  he  was  dying  of  hunger.  When  he  had 
eaten,  the  animals  came  in  to  see  him,  for  they  had 
heard  that  he  was  very  sick.  He  told  them  all 


238  TEE-WAHN    FOLK-STORIES 

that  had  been,  and  how  T'hoo-chee-deh  had  known 
his  trick.  At  that,  all  the  animals  were  afraid  of 
the  Field-Mouse,  and  respected  him  more  than  ever 
—  for  it  was  plain  that  he  indeed  had  the  Power. 

Time  passing  so,  it  came  that  one  day  the  Men 
of  the  Old  made  nah-ku-ah-shu>  the  great  round- 
hunt.  When  they  had  made  a  great  circle  on  the 
llano,  and  killed  many  rabbits,  some  of  them  found 
T'hoo-chee-deh,  and  made  him  prisoner.  They 
brought  him  before  ti\e  principales,  who  questioned 
him,  saying: 

"  How  do  you  gain  your  life  ?  " 

UI  gain  it,"  he  answered,  "by  going  about 
among  the  animals  who  are  sick,  and  curing 
them." 

Then  the  elders  said:  "If  that  is  so,  teach  us 
your  Power,  and  we  will  set  you  free ;  but  if  not, 
you  shall  die." 

T'hoo-chee-deh  agreed,  and  they  brought  him 
to  town  with  honor.  For  twelve  days  and  twelve 
nights  he  and  the  men  stayed  shut  up  in  the  estufa; 
for  two  days  fasting,  and  one  day  making  the  med- 
icine-dance, and  then  fasting  and  then  dancing 
again,  as  our  medicine-men  do  to  this  day. 

On  the  last  night,  when  he  had  taught  the  men 
all  the  herbs  and  how  to  use  them,  and  they  had 
become  wise  with  practice,  they  sent  T'hoo-chee- 
deh  out  with  a  strong  guard,  that  nothing  should 
harm  him.  They  set  him  down  at  the  door  of  his 
own  house  under  the  chapparo.  A  law  was  made, 
giving  him  full  liberty  of  all  that  is  grown  in  the 
fields.  To  this  day,  all  True  Believers  honor  him, 
so  that  he  is  not  called  small  any  more.  When 
they  sing  of  him  in  the  sacred  places,  they  make 


DOCTOR  FIELD-MOUSE  239 

his  house  great,  calling  it  koor-6o-hlee  naht-hoo,  the 
Mountain  of  the  Chapparo.  And  him  they  call  not 
T'hoo-chee-deh,  the  Field- Mouse,  but  Pee-id-deh 
fiah-hldh-queer,  the  Deer-by-the-River,  thathemay 
not  seem  of  little  honor.1  For  he  was  the  Father 
of  Medicine,  and  taught  us  how  to  cure  the  sick. 

"Tahb-k6on-ahm?"  cried  the  boys.  "  Is  that 
why  the  Coyote  always  cries  ?  And  is  that  why  we 
must  never  hurt  the  Field-Mouse,  but  show  him  re- 
spect, as  to  elders  ?  " 

"That  is  the  very  why,"  said  Manuelito's  grand- 
father, gravely ;  and  all  the  old  men  nodded. 

"And  why — "  began  'Tonio.  But  his  father 
shook  his  head. 

"  Tah  /  It  is  enough.      Too-kwai  /  " 

So  we  stepped  out  into  the  night  to  our  homes. 
And  from  the  Ku-mai,  black  against  the  starry  sky, 
the  howl  of  Too-whay-deh,  wandering  with  his 
toothache,  swelled  across  the  sleeping  village  of 
the  Tee-wahn. 

1  This  is  not  an  exception.  Nearly  all  the  animals  known  to  the  Tee-wahn 
have  not  only  their  common  name,  but  a  ceremonial  and  sacred  one,  which  is 
used  exclusively  in  the  songs  and  rites. 


